


Same Mistakes

by deansmachines (flannelfeelings)



Series: 'Same Mistakes' Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little angst, Alastair is a dingus, Alternate Universe - High School, Bobby and Ellen are Dean's parents, Bottom Dean, Cas is a butthole at first but then he's nice, Chubby Dean, Dean has like the best family ever, Dean is so sensitive, Dean's so cute aw, Dean-Centric, Discussion of Abortion, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hormones, Lactation, Let's just say guys can have babies ok, Moody Dean, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, One Night Stand, Pregnant Dean, Teenage Castiel/Teenage Dean Winchester, Teenage Drama, Teenage Pregnancy, Top Castiel, Unplanned Pregnancy, graphic birth, mentions of sex but i don't like pregnant sex so yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2466602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannelfeelings/pseuds/deansmachines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School is difficult enough as it is. </p><p>Throw in an unplanned pregnancy, a confusing baby daddy, and a judgemental hometown?</p><p>Dean's lucky if he survives this year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vegetables

**Author's Note:**

> omg ok here's chapter one if you guys seem to like it I'll do more idk I just got bottom!Dean feels and I think him and Cas having a baby is the cutest shit ever ok bye thanks pls enjoy

Dean hates school dances, always has, always will. In fact, if his little brother and sister hadn’t dragged him here tonight, he’d be at home playing video games and stuffing his face. He’d much rather be doing that, in lieu of leaning dejectedly against a padded gym wall watching teenage idiots press their bodies together in an unsavory fashion to shitty pop music due to the complete lack of chaperones present tonight. He’s fairly certain someone’s spiked the punch as well; it’s obvious from the way some of the younger students are stumbling around idiotically. It’s the same thing every year. He’s so absorbed in his own cynical thoughts that it takes him a moment to notice there’s someone standing beside him. It also takes him a moment to realize that the person next to him, is Castiel Novak, the most popular kid at Truman High School. He’s a senior, a grade ahead of Dean, with dark locks of hair and blue eyes that drive people of all genders and orientations wild. He’s a bit shorter than Dean, with a more lean and cut frame, but he carries himself with the pride and strength of a cage fighter.

“Hey,” Castiel says across the blurb of shouting and loud music.

“Hi,” Dean says, utterly perplexed at the thought of the most beloved senior at his school even braving to speak to him.

Castiel flashes him a brilliant white smile, and Dean is nearly blinded by the sheer beauty of it, “Not much of a dancer are you?”

Dean shakes his head, his nervousness slightly fading as he realizes that Castiel is probably just a normal person and not some super stuck up snob, “Not much of a dance person in general.”

“I can tell. Neither am I really. Why’d you come?”

Dean sighs and points across the dance floor, where Sam and Jo are huddled close in a group of friends, talking and laughing, “Babysitting my freshman and sophomore siblings.”

“Huh,” Castiel says, bemused, “So am I.” he gestures to the opposite side of the room, where a petite redhead that Dean recognizes as a freshman named “Anna” is being hit on by some sleazeball, “My little sister.” Castiel explains.

Dean nods, grinning, “Ah. I didn’t know.”

“Can’t say she bears the family resemblance,” Castiel replies with a chuckle, “She’s insisted on dying her hair that color for three years now. I think it’s just going to be in her DNA forever.”

Dean smiles at this, and holds his hand out tentatively, “I’m Dean.”

“Castiel,” he smiles back and they shake hands quickly.

“Kind of a weird name,” Dean observes, hoping it doesn’t come off as rude, “I mean- an interesting name.”

Castiel sighs lightly, “Son of a Pastor. My brothers and I have all got biblical names. Michael, Gabriel, Lucifer and myself. Anna’s the only girl.”

Dean’s face screws up in a confused expression, “Your brother’s name is Lucifer? I never expected a pastor to name his kid after the _devil_.”

“Well,” Castiel muses, “Lucifer used to be an angel, he just fell. Never stopped being an angel, even after he went bad. He’s just a different kind of angel, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Dean snorts, “One who does evil.”

Castiel shrugs, “Who decides what is and isn’t evil? I mean, I saw an old lady get denied medication at the pharmacy the other day because she didn’t have proper insurance. She’ll die without it. Is the pharmacist evil for following regulation?”

Dean’s mouth feels dry, “Well, I mean-”

Castiel continues, speaking over Dean’s half-assed attempt at an articulate response, “Lucifer punishes the unjust, therefore wouldn’t that make him a man of the people?”

A slight smile caresses Dean’s lips, “I’ve never heard anyone look at it that way before.”

Castiel grins at Dean, “Life’s about perspective Dean.”

“Well I’m certainly glad we got the philosophical discussions out of the way before we got to know each other.” Dean responds teasingly, “Who cares about your favorite color, I know your opinion on Satan.”

Castiel laughs, and it’s a light, beautiful sound that makes Dean’s insides tremble and tingle. “Alright Dean, we’ll play by your rules. Tell me, what’s your favorite color?”

Dean can’t help his gaze from traveling up and landing helplessly on Castiel’s incredible cobalt irises, “Blue.”

**

Positive.

No way. Fuck no. This isn’t happening.

Dean looks again, as if the test has changed it’s result in the past five seconds, and is completely disheartened and mortified to find it’s still positive. Just like the other five that he took throughout the day. What did he do, to deserve this? Okay, so he’d been a bit promiscuous, sleeping with Castiel after meeting him once at the dance. But that was 8 weeks ago, why is it coming back to bite him in the ass now? He’s been so good since then, he hasn’t snuck off with any guys to the public bathroom of Truman High to get fucked against a stall, much like his night with Castiel had been. Dean does not need this right now. He needs to focus on surviving junior year, not doing it with a baby belly.

An image flashes across his mind of the abortion clinic down in Kansas City. He could sneak down there one night, on his own, get this little problem all fixed up. It’s what he should do, right? It’s the responsible, smart thing to do. He wants to, he wants to so badly. But...he can’t. Overpowering the image of the clinic, is the thought of a green-eyed little girl with freckles running through grass. Dean smiles, and his hand involuntarily travels to the patch of skin just above his belly button. In a matter of months, she or he would be here, running through grass and calling Dean “daddy.” He knows the thought of that should scare the hell out of him, but it makes him beam down proudly at the tests. He feels more proud than when he won the science fair in fifth grade, which has been his only major accomplishment. He wonders if this counts as a success, or a failure. It feels like success, but he knows most people are going to call it failure. So okay, he’s only sixteen and yeah, he only met the father once, but honestly, that stuff doesn’t matter. Dean just found out he’s having the damn kid, and he loves it already.

He’s about to get off the cold tile when he hears a hesitant knock on the bathroom door, “Dean?” his foster mother Ellen calls out softly, “Are you alright sweetie? Are you sick?”

Dean had been sick earlier today, it was why he decided to get the tests in the first place. Early this morning he’d woken up with unrelenting nausea that persisted until noon. Relieved it was Sunday, he’d jogged down to a local drug store and bought a plethora of pregnancy tests that he planned to take during the span of hours he had alone while his family was out. Instead of saying this though, he replies, “I’m uh-I’m fine.” he clears his throat, surprised at how feeble he actually sounds. Maybe he’s in shock or something.

“Okay, well it’s dinner time. Are you gonna be okay to come out and eat something?”

Dean sighs internally; if it’s dinner time that means it’s probably around five thirty, which means he’s been in the bathroom for three hours. No wonder she’s worried.

“Be right out.” he calls, scooping up the abundance of soiled tests and wrapping them in toilet paper.

He sneaks out of the bathroom, grateful that Ellen has already disappeared into the kitchen, and quickly hides them. He tucks them safely under his underwear in the drawer, and then steps back out to meet his family sitting around the dinner table. He wonders if they can tell. Is it obvious somehow? He knows logically it can’t be; he’s barely showing and he’s always been a little chubby. His eyes dart around suspiciously as he tentatively serves himself a generous helping of mashed potatoes and collard greens. He remembers hearing somewhere in health class that vegetables are good for nurturing a growing fetus. He’ll try to force down more of those, he wants his freckled little miracle to be healthy.

“Dean’s eating his vegetables?” Bobby inquires in disbelief, “You feelin’ okay boy?”

Dean chews the quite bland greens slowly, speaking only after he swallows, “Trying to get healthier.”

Ellen shakes her head, “You’re not on one of those crash diets are you Dean? You know those are so bad for you, and you’re perfect the way you ar-”

“Mom,” Jo chuckles, “look at all the mashed potatoes on his plate. He’s eating more than usual.”

Sam arches an eyebrow, “Healthier huh?” he chuckles, “Not by eating that much.”

Dean doesn’t mean to get all worked up over his sibling’s teasing, but his hormones are completely out of whack. Fine, he’s chubby, who cares? Why do they have to be so...so..

“You’re so _mean_!” Dean snaps, dropping his fork and pushing his chair back with a screech. Despite the fact that he’s absolutely starving and he knows he should feed the baby, his pride swells and he’s too upset to sit there any longer. His entire family is staring at him, wide-eyed and wondering why Dean fucking Winchester just had a little hissy fit at his sibling’s usual messing around.

“Dean?” Bobby asks, perplexed, “What the hell was that?”

He swallows hard, trying to reign in his wayward emotions. He’s tied between spilling his guts right now, and holding in the secret until he can figure something out financially. What if he gets kicked out? “Dean?” Ellen presses, rising to her feet calmly, “Are you okay?”

He’s torn, “I...I- uh-ah…”

“Dean.” Bobby says seriously, standing as well, “What’s going on?”

Dean’s gaze flicks from the looks of concern on his sibling’s faces, to the matching ones on his parent’s. Shit. He shakes his head to clear it, because he suddenly feels dizzy, “I…” he realizes he’s been holding his breath and it comes out in a weak whoosh, “I don’t… I can’t….”

He hadn’t realized it would be this hard. “Dean?” his little sister asks nervously, “Look hey I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine Jo,” he insists, gripping on to the chair he was just sitting in for support, “Uh...guys I’m…”

“Oh my god.” Ellen presses her hand to her mouth, “You’re pregnant.”

“What?” Bobby and Sam both chorus at the same time.

Dean nods pathetically, cursing himself for being so transparent, “Yeah.”

Ellen steps towards him and curls her arm comfortingly around his shoulders, “Dean honey it’s okay.” she consoles him softly, “Try not to stress hm? Why don’t you sit down, we can talk this out.”

He nods again, unsure if he can find his voice. He robotically lowers himself back into his chair and Ellen and Jo switch places so his foster mother is right beside him. “When did you find out?” “Just today,” Dean explains breathlessly, still disbelieving at this turn of events, “I got sick this morning, and it just didn’t feel...right. I knew the timing of the last time I had-” he halts abruptly, face turning cherry red, “uh...physical contact with someone was just right, so I got a few tests.”

“How many?”

Dean grimaces, “Six.”

“Jesus,” Bobby manages from across the table, “how did you shoot out the piss for six tests?”

“I drank a lot of water.”

Ellen’s face is ghastly white, “They were all positive?”

Dean nods once more, shameful.

“Damn you’re fertile.” Jo mutters in disbelief.

“Shut it kid,” he says, but he’s slightly smiling.

“So wait, who’s the father?” Sam interjects.

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. He isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t think he can bear the thought of saying his name out loud, so he lies, “Some guy...you don’t know him. It was a one time thing. Ellen, are you going to kick me out?”

Ellen sighs softly, “Well obviously this situation isn’t ideal. But Dean, we would never abandon you like that. It seems like you want to keep the baby.”

Dean is nodding again, “Yeah...yeah I do.”

“Well I’m not going to force you to change your mind, this is your body and your baby, your decision. We’ll get you in for a doctors appointment in a few days, make sure everythings doing okay. How far along are you?”

“Um...around eight weeks.”

“Wow.” Ellen’s eyes widen, “That’s pretty far along. We should get you started on prenatal vitamins-”

“Wait, mom.” Jo cuts in, “what about school?”

“This wont stop him from getting an education.”Bobby tells her assuredly, “This ain’t biblical times, Dean can raise his baby and still be successful.”

Holy fuck Dean’s got the best family in the world.

“Thank you.” he says softly to Bobby, eyes on the floor. He knows he’s let his foster father down, and he can’t bear to meet his gaze.

“Dean, look at me.” Bobby orders gruffly. Dean obliges, meeting his eyes. But Bobby doesn’t look angry or disappointed, he’s smiling. “It’s alright Dean,” he promises, “I’m still so proud of you. I still love you.”

Dean wants to fucking cry, “I love you too.”

-

The next morning Dean is making his way from algebra to biology, content. He and Ellen had gotten an appointment with an OB scheduled for later in the week, and she’d even swung by the pharmacy late last night to get him some prenatal vitamins, one of which he took this morning after puking his guts up and then being babied by Ellen for at least an hour. He’s content, that is, until he runs into a familiar face.

He’s barely watching where he’s going, and he barrels right into...Castiel. He remembers that night he’d taken to moaning out “Cas” instead of the guy’s full name, it was just easier. He wonders if Cas would find that appropriate now.

“Is it true?” Cas demands coldly. Dean’s hand circles protectively around his waist, which pretty much gives Cas his answer, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You know?” Dean asks, flabbergasted, “How the hell-”

“Anna told me. Her little friend Sam told her. I had to find out you’re fucking knocked up from my little sister who has no idea we’re a thing. Is it mine?”

Dean’s too startled to answer. “Is...it... _mine?_ ” Castiel growls, grabbing Dean’s arm roughly. Dean wriggles free, a little frightened by Cas’ behavior. He supposes it makes sense, Cas could get fucking killed for this. His dad is a priest or something, Dean is sure he wouldn’t take too kindly to his preppy underage son who’s just begun his senior year of high school knocking up some lower class kid.

“Yes.” Dean says softly, “The baby is yours.” 

“Fuck!” Cas snarls, venom sharpening his tone, “How could you do this to me?” 

“Hey,” Dean growls defensively, suddenly furious at the distaste for his kid, “It takes two idiots to make a baby you know. Besides, it’s not like I planned this.” 

Cas pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation, “You’re going to get rid of it right?” 

Dean bristles, “No.” 

Cas expression changes from upset to furious, “Are you kidding me!? I’m not going to raise this kid, I don’t even want it!” 

Dean replies through gritted teeth, “I didn’t _ask you to_.” 

Cas nose curls up in rage, “Fucking fine. You’re an idiot you know, for keeping the thing. Good luck being a single teenage parent.” he whirls on his heel and speeds off down the hall. Dean leans against the wall, mortified at the encounter and not really caring that he’s going to be late to biology. 

\- 

It’s been twelve weeks since Dean found out he was pregnant. He hits the five month mark tomorrow, which is both exciting and nerve-wracking. Of course now that the natural curve of his belly is more distinct and a growing baby bump is inherently visible, people have begun talking. Most people treat him poorly, call him names and make fun of him behind his back, but there are some supporters, which he’s grateful for. Dean knows it’s worth it though. For his baby. Sometimes, he just wishes Cas could be here, beside him helping him through this. He’s had a few ultrasounds now, and although he hasn’t really been able to see the baby yet, he’s told it’s growing perfectly and is the picture of health. He’ll be able to see a clear picture this month, and possibly even get the gender. Plus, he’s begun to feel little butterflies of movement. Nothing significant yet, but his doctor assures him it should be coming soon. 

That almost makes up for it when he has to sprint out of third hour English to race to the boys bathroom. He briefly notices Cas is standing in front of one of the sinks, grooming his hair delicately. Dean brisks past him and falls to his knees in one of the stalls, proceeding to empty his stomach of it’s contents into the toilet. One thing that hasn’t been too exciting: morning sickness. Dean’s got it bad, really bad. Dr. Rosen tells him it’s perfectly normal, that every pregnancy is different and Dean might even experience it all throughout the pregnancy, but it still sucks. 

He’s halfway through losing his breakfast, when a hesitant voice asks from behind him, “Um...are you okay?” 

He finishes up and flushes the toilet, wiping his mouth with his black sweatshirt sleeve. He takes a moment to suck up a few desperately needed breaths, but doesn’t brave standing up. He fears movement too quickly will bring him to his knees with sickness again. 

“Peachy,” he replies harshly, his voice ragged and scratchy from throwing up so much recently. 

Apparently, Cas can detect this, “You getting sick a lot?”

“You don’t get to ask me that.” Dean says breathlessly, rubbing a hand absently on the side of his slightly protruding stomach, “You don’t get to ask me anything. You decided not to have anything to do with us, so you won’t.” 

Cas wrinkles his nose, “I was just trying to-”

“No.” Dean stops him, “Don’t you dare-” He’s going to continue, but the baby doesn’t want him to keep blabbing. He grabs the toilet seat again and begins to dry heave. There’s nothing left in his stomach to throw up except thin, yellow bile that smells sour and burns like stomach acid. A soft groan escapes his lips and he retches up the bile and coughs a few times to empty his throat of any residue. His hands are trembling as he flushes the toilet again, but stays leaned over it, he knows this will happen again in another moment. He can’t catch a fucking break. 

There’s a hand on the base of his spine now, trying to be soothing, but the voice is anxious, “Alright, it’s okay.” 

“Don’t touch me,” Dean tries to sound venomous, but his voice comes out cracked and weak. 

Cas pulls his hand away, but keeps hovering almost worriedly over Dean, “Is this normal?”

“What do you care?” 

“Dean, please.” 

“It’s fine Cas. Now leave me alone.” 

Cas pulls back a bit more, but hesitates, “No one’s called me Cas since you and I…” he scratches his neck and switches topics quickly, “I don’t think you should be alone right now. Should I bring you to the nurse?” 

“No,” Dean rasps, “It’ll go away s-” he’s afraid he’s going to puke again, so he stops speaking, but when the feeling passes he continues, “It’ll go away soon.” 

Cas watches as Dean begins dry heaving and retching up nothing again, a look of concern and pity plastered across his face. “Shouldn’t you be sent home?” 

“I’m not sick,” Dean growls, “I’m fucking pregnant. Stop acting like I’m some kind of disease.”

“Dean that isn’t how I meant it,” Cas rubs his eyes, like _he’s_ stressed. Oh nice. He’s stressed. “Can you just leave?” Dean demands, as a shudder wracks his body and he begins retching up nothing again. 

“You need to get something in you,” Cas says, “Here- oh, drink some of this.” 

He produces a water bottle from his messenger backpack and hands it to Dean. Dean really doesn’t want this guys charity. “No.”

“Stop with the stupid pride, the baby needs it. You’re going to get dehydrated.” 

With an angry noise Dean snatches the bottle and pulls off the cap, downing half of it and realizing how thirsty he is.

“Slow down,” Cas suggests lightly, “It’ll just come right back up.” 

Dean’s drinking gradually slows down until he’s drained the bottle completely empty. He flops down again, back against the stall as he leans over to flush the toilet.  “Thanks.” He says, tossing the empty bottle into the trash can across the room.

Cas nods, “Least I could do.” 

“The very least.” 

Cas sighs, as he sits across from Dean in the stall, scratching his neck, “Listen-”

“Don’t want to hear it.” Dean says quietly, “You won’t mean it. Just go already, you’re missing class.”

“I don’t care.” Cas insists, “Let me talk for five minutes, okay?”

“No.”

“Please?” 

“Whatever.” Dean grumbles, rubbing soothing circles across his belly in a desperate attempt to settle his stomach down. 

“Dean, I’m really sorry about the way I acted. I had no right to say those things to you and just desert you, after all you’re the father of my baby, and I do care about you. I just freaked out...I was scared of what people would think. Of what my father would do...but you need to know that I care about you and the baby. I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Dean stares at him, “What do you want from me Cas?” 

Cas sighs softly, “I don’t know. Maybe we can...start by being friends?” 

Dean hesitates, untrusting, but decides it couldn’t hurt, “I guess so.”

The bell rings, alerting them that they’ve missed and entire period. Dean sighs quietly and moves to stand, before realizing it’s more difficult than he imagined.  He curses, and switches to his knees before trying once again to stand. This proves futile as well, and he slumps back down, grumbling angrily. 

“Ah- here,” Cas swoops down and takes Dean’s hand, placing his other free hand on Dean’s side, before helping pull him up. Dean stumbles a little, but Cas steadies him and then pulls away, “you alright?”

Dean nods, “I’m fine. Thank you for the...well, thanks for the help. Appreciate it.” 

Cas nods and they step into the hall together.


	2. Not so Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything seemed to go well with ch.1 so heres the next! :)
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know what you think!
> 
> (btw sorry if the French is incorrect lmao you know I'm using google translate for that)

As Dean and Cas exit the restroom, Dean’s favorite bully, some douche named Alastair, decides to pick this moment to be his usual dick-self. “Oh my god,” he snorts out loudly, his friends crowding in behind him as he points at Dean, “the whore was in the bathroom with a guy. Unbelievable, he’s already knocked up and he still can’t stop fucking everything he sees.”

Cas looks like he’s about to talk, but Dean whispers to him, “Its better just to keep quiet. They get bored eventually.”

Cas seems hesitant, but he nods once and follows as Dean turns to move towards his locker. But Alastair persists, his friends looking eager as he follows behind Dean and Cas and says, “Really though, how’d you even get laid? I mean, you were fat _before_ the bastard kid. What loser would ever fuck you?”

Dean, still digging through his locker, takes a deep breath through his nose. _Stay calm_ , he tells himself, _you don't want to fight. Not now._

“Hey,” Cas snarls at Alastair, “Shut the fuck up.”

Alastair ignores him and pushes through the flurry of people in the hall to stand right beside Dean, who’s still ignoring him, “Hey! Are you slutty and _deaf_?”

Usually when Dean doesn’t respond, Alastair just gives up, but with Cas having challenged him, he’s being a mega jerk. Still, Dean does not expect it when the elbow hits him hard in the stomach. His head smacks hard against the locker and the world blurs around him. He turns his head just in time to see Castiel swing his fist and crack his knuckles against Alastair’s face. Alastair falls flat on his back, gasping for air in a way similar to how Dean is, and Dean decides that is perfect justice. Then, before he can really register what’s happening, the pain in his forehead sharpens and he collapses to the cold tile.

-

He’s awakened by the blinding glow that belongs to Nurse Barnes’s flashlight. He’s laying on his back, which he never does anymore because it puts too much pressure on his bladder and has almost made him piss himself a few times. He decides this won’t do, and he manages to roll on his side before another wave of nausea and vertigo roll over his body. He gags and grabs the trashcan that’s right beside the bed, promptly retching up more bile into it and gagging on the acid in his throat.

“Alright kiddo, get it all up.” He raises his head after spitting once and licking his lips. Nurse Barnes stands over him, her cherry red lipstick stark against her pale, middle aged face. The colors make him feel even more sick to his stomach.

“What happened?” he groans, moving into sitting position as the dull ache in his head registers, almost like the lingering discomfort of a migraine.

“That kid pushed you into the locker and you hit your head. Guess that combined with not eating enough today knocked you out. We’ve called your parents, they’re probably waiting down in the front office right now.”

“Where’s Cas?”

“Who?”

“The kid who punched the other guy.”

“Oh! The knight in shining armor who I’m guessing is the daddy of your baby. He’s in the office too, but I don’t think he’s getting in much trouble. Probably some detention, although he did give the other kid a bloody nose.”

Dean looks down and smiles at this, “He did?”

“Yeah kiddo, he defended your honor and all that jazz. Now, you gonna get up and walk down to the office or do I have to cart you out of here on a crane?”

“Jeesh, rude.”

“Just get up.”

Dean slowly gets off the bed, using the wall to balance himself. Luckily, Nurse Barnes isn’t a complete monster, and she gives him a ice pack for his head and puts an arm around his shoulders to steady him on the walk there. “Thanks,” he tells her as they near the office door.

She nods, “No problem kid. You good from here?” he nods in response, and she releases him to scurry back to her room.

Dean takes a deep breath, presses the ice pack a little tighter to his bruised face and steps inside. Instantly he spots Cas sitting dejectedly in one of the plush waiting chairs. His backpack and Dean’s are at his feet, and he’s playing nervously with his fingers. Dean can see the knuckles on his left hand are split down the middle; he must’ve really done some damage to Alastair. Not bad for a church kid. Dean unsteadily crosses the carpet until he’s standing in front of Cas, who jolts up and faces Dean head on. His blue eyes take in Dean’s condition; ice pack pressed against his bruised up forehead, unsure, trembling legs, shaking hands from hunger and fatigue.

“Are you okay?” he asks, as if he’s afraid of the answer.

“I’m fine Cas, thank you.” Dean offers him a weak smile, “Thanks for uh...standing up for me. That meant a lot.”

“That’s what...friends do.” He says softly, “I was so worried when he-”

“Dean!” Both boys turn as Ellen and Bobby burst through the office doors. Ellen yanks him into her embrace, smoothing her hand down the back of his short hair. “Oh baby,” she cooes, hugging him tight, “What happened? They called and said you were fighting, what are you thinking? What happened to your head?! Are you okay?”

Dean pulls away, although he’s appreciative of her overbearing attitude, “I’m okay, uh, this guy hit my head against a locker and I passed out.”

“Oh my god, we’ll go see the doctor tomorrow,” then she turns on Cas, “did _you_ do this?”

“No!” Dean breaks in, “No Ellen, he uh, he defended me.”

Bobby stares at Cas, “You’re the father, aren’t you?”

Cas nods shamefully, rubbing his hands together, “I’m sorry sir.”

Ellen’s eyes pass between Cas’ split knuckle and his concerned expression, “You punched the kid who hurt Dean?”

Cas nods once more, “Yeah.”

“Did you hurt him?”

Cas scratches his neck, “Gave him a bloody nose.”

“Good.”

Cas smiles a bit, and looks at the ground again.

“Mr. and Mrs Singer,” Principal Uriel says as he enters the room, “Thank you for coming.”

Bobby shakes his hand, “Nice to see you Principal. So, it’s okay if we just take Dean out of school for the day?”

Principal Uriel scratches his forehead, “Well...there’s something we should discuss.”

Ellen scowls, “What’s that?”

“We’re suspending Dean.”

“What?” Dean demands, incredulous, “why?”

Uriel grimaces, “Son, I think with your behavior recently, a suspension is perfectly in order.”

“My….” Dean stares at him, horrified, “My _behavior_? But what have I-”

“This is because he’s pregnant. That’s prejudice.” Bobby growls, “You can’t suspend him for that. Are you even suspending the other kids?”

Uriel smooths the front of his suit down calmly, “Alastair simply expressed his opinion and Castiel did exactly the same thing. None of it would’ve happened if Dean wasn’t in such a distracting, self-inflicted position.”

Dean’s jaw falls slack, but words fail him.

“ _Expressing his opinion_?” Cas seethes, “Did you see what he did to Dean’s face? He _hurt_ him!”

“Alastair has informed us that Dean’s injury was unintentional, probably mostly due to his unfit balance, once again from his position. The staff and I have decided the best way to put an end to this conflict is to remove Dean from the situation. Just for a week. It will go on his permanent record, but it’s not to worry, lots of students have to deal with that.”

“B-but,” Dean is absolutely horrified, “You can’t. I won’t get into a good college-this isn’t fair! I didn’t _do_ anything!”

Uriel’s nose turns up as he says to Dean, “the fact that you have the audacity to ask anything of this school after we’ve already been dealing with your condition is proof to me that you deserve the suspension.”

“I should punch _you_ ,” Cas snaps brazenly, but Uriel ignores his snarky attitude. Dean’s pretty sure if he’d said that, he’d be expelled instantly. But of course, he’s not as intelligent, or as wealthy, nor does he have Castiel’s flawless social and academic record.

Bobby is equally as floored and furious, “I wanna speak to your boss!”

“I am the boss.”

“No you ain’t idjit, I know what a school board is. You get me the fucking head, I’m not leaving this office until Dean is guaranteed immunity from this suspension. If anything, that Alastair kid needs to be suspended, he’s the one who fucked up Dean’s face. If he hurt my grandbaby this school and that fucking kid will have hell to pay.”

Uriel’s jaw clenches visibly, and it’s clear that he doesn't want to have to involve his superiors, he looks disdainfully at Dean, “Fine. You can stay. But one more infraction like today Dean Winchester, and you’re _out_.”

He turns on his heel and disappears back into his office. Before the door swings closed, Dean can see Alastair sitting in one of the chairs, an ice bag pressed against his nose. This has been a terrible, terrible day.

“Are you okay sweetie?” Ellen asks quietly, rubbing a hand in soothing circles on Dean’s back.

He nods lamely, “Yeah...just...gonna wait outside for you guys.”

“Alright hon, we’ll be out in a minute.”

He pulls away, takes his bag from Cas with a muttered ‘thanks’ and exits the building. It’s started to rain by the time he walks out, not too much of a downpour, but a light drizzle that chills him to the bone. He tosses the ice into a nearby trash can and treks around the side of the school, leaning against the brick wall and letting the rain splatter down on his sore face. Everything is so fucked. This is not how he wanted to bring his baby into the world. He wants things to change. He wishes he was someone else; someone with a perfect life. But then of course, his baby would be different, and he already loves her the way she is. Unborn, but still his. He huddles more tightly into his thin black sweatshirt, wishing he was wearing more than just a black t- underneath.

“Dean?” he looks up at the voice and watches Castiel inch around the corner, hesitantly.

“Hi Cas.” he says roughly.

Cas smiles weakly, “You’re going to catch a cold out here.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean mumbles, hands splaying out protectively over his stomach, although you can’t see them in his pockets.

“It does, you look freezing. Here.” Cas shrugs out of his black cardigan and offers it to Dean.

“Cas put that back on, you’re wearing a short sleeve.”

“I’m also not pregnant.”

“Cas, I’m with child, not dying”

“You’re shivering.”

Dean sighs and accepts the cardigan, mostly because it will make Cas shut up. He pulls it on over his shoulders, but he’s much bigger than Cas, even before he began to change with pregnancy, so for the sake of the fabric he doesn’t button it. Cas seems to observe this as well, and he looks down to hide his smile.

“Why’re you being so nice to me?” Dean demands, “yesterday you wanted nothing to do with me, and today you’re doing me favors left and right.”

“I haven't been here for you,” Cas confesses, “but I’ve been thinking about you for two months. I need to take responsibility, I am the baby’s father and I’m fucking proud of it.”

Dean finds himself smiling, despite his best efforts, “You’re a real sweetheart in crunch time Cas.”

“Well, I love my kid. High school or not, I can’t stop thinking about you and her.”

Dean nods, “You think it’s a girl too?”

Cas’ cheeks turn pink, “I think I’d like one.”

Dean’s smile grows, “Yeah, yeah me too.”

“So...am I forgiven Dean? For abandoning you?”

“You did ditch me Cas,” Dean reminds him, “And you said some..” he grimaces, “Not so nice things.”

Cas nods, “I get it. Of course. It will...it will take time?”

Dean is about to reply with a tentative ‘yes’ but Ellen and Bobby choose this moment to exit the building, calling for him to follow them to the car. Cas sighs, “I should go back inside anyway. My dad will be here soon...I’ve got some things to explain to him.”

“Good luck,” Dean offers up meekly, and waves goodbye as he begins to trek through the rain towards Bobby’s pickup.

-

“Well Dean, looks like you’ve got a minor concussion.” Dr. Bradbury says as she scoots a little closer on her rolly stool.

Ellen presses a hand to her mouth and says in a strained voice, “Will he be okay? What about the baby?”

“He should be okay, although it might take him a little longer to heal because pregnancy can compromise your immune system. Especially with his young age and the fact that he’s still experiencing severe morning sickness, I’m going to say bedrest is important for a few days. The baby is doing good, he should start to feel movement soon. I’m sorry Dean, I know you were excited to learn the gender but I couldn’t get a clear image on the ultrasound yet.”

Dean takes a deep breath; he’s tied between wanting to shoot Alastair for daring lay his hands on Dean’s baby, and wanting to strangle Cas for confusing him so much by hitting Alastair. Come on, it’s totally unfair of him to just swoop back into Dean’s life like some kind of hero out of a 60s comic book. Stupid jerk. Stupid, handsome, charming, sweet...jerk. Dr. Bradbury allows Dean and Ellen to leave after a few more minutes of evaluation, and as Dean sits beside Ellen in the car, he says nothing.

“You okay kiddo?” she asks.

Dean isn’t sure how to answer, so he decides on honesty, “He could’ve seriously hurt my baby...what if he’d hit me just a little harder?”

“Alright darling, no use stressing’ over it now. You and little peanut are gonna be just fine, I promise. Bobby and I are going to take care of that fuckhead Alastair, don’t you worry.”

Dean nods and rubs a hand absently across his stomach; something he’s taken to doing a lot recently. He figures it’s a protective thing, just instinctual. Somehow it always manages to soothe him, knowing the baby is safe beneath his fingers.

“You hungry?” Ellen asks as they pull into the driveway.

“M’always hungry Ellen.”

She grins, “That’s my boy. C’mon you can help me make lunch.”

As they enter the house Dean notes that the clock above the stove says 2:00 PM. School is ending just about now. He’d taken the day off with Ellen to visit the doctor, hoping that his baby was okay. He’s relieved that she’s not been harmed and doesn’t seem to be in any danger right now, but he’s still a nervous wreck. Alastair could’ve seriously hurt her. He’s glad that Jo has soccer practice and Sam band, it means he and Ellen can just relax for a few hours without having to deal with their smothering. Bobby will be at Singer Auto until late tonight, he’s got a busy shift. Dean was supposed to start working with him this year, and he’d gone for a few days, but in his current condition, nobody deems it safe for him to be sliding under cars and lighting flame throwers. Dean tries to help Ellen make lunch but really he’s a mess in the kitchen, so she ends up doing all the work and fawning over him while he sits tiredly in one of the chairs at their kitchen table. Lately he’s exhausted...all the time. Ellen makes her classic homemade Mac N’ Cheese because it’s Dean’s favorite comfort food, and they sit down together to eat.

Halfway through the meal though, the doorbell rings. Ellen moves to get it, but Dean lays a hand on her arm, “I’ve got it.”

“Dean, let me.”

“Please, you do so much for me. Let me just _answer the door._ ” He rolls his eyes and rises with some difficulty from the chair. Dr. Bradbury had mentioned that he’d be sore, his entire left side feels like it’s been repeatedly kicked by a championship soccer player. Nevertheless, he pads barefoot down the hall to the front door, pulling it open with ease. His good mood is squashed as he sees Castiel standing outside. Cas is wearing a light blue button up that makes his eyes pop even more than the glistening sunlight that reflects off them. His tanned skin is sun kissed, and his teeth flash white against it. He looks..incredible. Why the fuck did he have sex with Dean?

“Dean,” Cas greets him with a smile that could make a nun quit her chaste vows, “How are you?”

Warily, Dean responds, “What are you doing here Cas?”

Cas sighs, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve been worrying all day.” he admits, “Is everything okay? You know, with the baby…?”

Dean decides it couldn’t hurt to tell the truth, since Cas seems so interested in the baby’s well being, “I have a concussion that won’t heal as well or quickly as it should because pregnancy has weakened my immune system.” he confesses, “I’m supposed to be on bedrest for a few days.”

“What can I do?” Cas asks gently, “Anything Dean. I just want to help.”

Dean thinks the offer is generous, but really there’s nothing for him, “Honestly Cas I’m alright. I appreciate you being so supportive all of a sudden, but I mean, I’ve worked everything out on my own.”

Cas nods once, looking disheartened, “Does this mean you don’t want me in the baby’s life?”

“Crap, Cas that’s not what I meant. She’s your baby too, you have the right to see her and get to know her. I just meant, you know, you don’t have to be all overprotective dad and stuff.”

Dean realizes what he said only moments after saying it. Cas’ head shoots up and he manages, “Dad.”

“I’m guessing you don’t want her to call you Castiel.”

A smile breaks across his handsome face, “Wow. Dad. That’s me.”

Dean snorts, “You’re very bright.”

“Dean?” Ellen calls from the kitchen, “is everything alright in there?”

Dean answers, “Yeah. Cas is here.”

There’s a pause, and then she replies, “Well great. Invite him in for some lunch. I want to get to know the father of my grandbaby.”

Dean glances back at Cas inquiringly, “Want lunch?”

Cas hesitates, “I’m not sure how accommodating what you’re eating will be. I’m uh, I’m a vegetarian.”

“Huh,” Dean says thoughtfully, “I didn’t know that.”

“I guess there’s a lot we probably don’t know about each other.” Cas agrees quietly.

“You’re the father of my baby. You knocked me up and I didn’t even know that you don’t eat meat.” Dean shakes his head, “Guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Come on inside, it’s meat free.”

Cas hesitantly follows Dean into the house and towards the kitchen where Ellen is already pouring a third bowl of the pasta for Cas. He smiles as she hands it to him and pats the seat next to her. “Thank you so much.” he says as he sits beside her, shooting Dean a nervous look.

Dean plops down next to Cas as Ellen says, “No problem darlin’. We didn’t really get properly introduced. My name’s Ellen, I’m Dean’s foster mama.”

“Oh I didn’t realize Dean was, adopted.” Cas smiles weakly, “Nice to meet you, I’m Cas. There’s...still a lot Dean and I don’t know about each other.”

“Yeah that’ll happen with unplanned pregnancy.” Ellen grins, “How do you think Bobby and I had Dean’s sister Jo?”

Dean begins choking on something imaginary, and it takes him a moment to gasp out, “Ellen _no_!”

She chuckles, “Sorry Dean. Anyway, Cas why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

Cas fidgets, “Well..what do you want to know?”

“You said your dad was a pastor or something,” Dean interjects, “What about your mom?”

Cas half-smiles, “My parents split up when I was very young. I uh, never met my mother really.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ellen says sincerely, “So what about your hobbies? What type of things do you like to do?”

“Well, I’m currently learning my third language. My first two being English and French. I’m learning German. Um I like to write and play soccer, and I love music. That’s really all there is to me.”

Dean feels more inferior than he ever has, “You speak _two_ languages? I didn’t know that. That’s pretty impressive.”

Cas’ face blossoms a brilliant red, “I was speaking French the night we met.”

Dean vaguely remembers Cas muttering some unholy gibberish while he fucked Dean against a bathroom stall, but in all fairness, he wasn’t really focused on the vernacular Cas was using, “Oh. Oh yeah.”

Ellen gags, “Wasn’t really interested in those details but thanks guys.”

Cas glances at her, “You’re being awfully relaxed about this whole situation.” he observes.

She shrugs, “You guys made a mistake. Dean’s got enough to worry about without me getting on his ass. Besides, if he’s gonna be a daddy he needs to start taking responsibility for himself. World’s gonna punish Dean enough, he don’t need me and Bobby doing it too.”

“That’s an insightful perspective.” Cas remarks, “Wish my dad thought that way.”

“You told him?” Dean cuts in, sounding more worried than he wants to.

Cas hesitates, “I did.”

“Well? What’d he do?”

“He, well, he freaked.”

“Freaked how?” Dean bristles.

“He kicked me out. Really it’s fine.”

Ellen frowns, “No darlin’ it is not fine. Where are you staying?”

Cas chuckles, an embarrassed sound, “Uh currently- well I’m still, ah...I’m working on that.”

“When did he kick you out?” Dean asks gently.

“Uh, yesterday.” Realization blossoms on Ellen’s face, “Where did you sleep last night?”

Cas grimaces, “I stayed in my friend’s garage”

“Oh my god,” Ellen groans, “And you still went to school today?”

“I didn’t exactly want my dad getting upset with me for ditching school as well.” Ellen glances once at Dean before seeming to make a decision, “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need sweetie.” That’s Ellen for you, a tough, nurturing soul who can’t turn anyone in need away. Dean both loves and hates this about his mother.

Cas looks at Dean, who’s staring into his empty now empty bowl, “No that’s okay. Thank you very much Ellen, I’m not sure how comfortable Dean would be with that.”

“And as much as I’d like to respect Dean’s comfortability,” Ellen argues softly, “Your homelessness is just a bit more important.”

“I agree.” Dean offers quietly, “Cas you need to stay somewhere.”

Cas hesitates, “Are you absolutely sure I’m not imposing?”

“Of course not kiddo,” Ellen pats his back affectionately, “Stay as long as you like. It’ll be good for Dean to get close with the father of his baby anyhow.”

Dean fidgets as Castiel responds, “I promise I’ll be out as soon as I can. Thank you so much.”

-

Cas’ staying with the Singers goes over pretty well. Bobby is just glad that Cas is there for Dean, Jo because Cas is awesome at soccer and Sam because Cas promised he’d go to one of his freshman band concerts and bring his “popular” friends. After a dinner that went very successfully for Castiel, he and Dean are sitting up in Dean’s room. Music is playing softly as a background, and Dean is making up a bed on the couch in his room.

“I’d be happy to take the couch,” Dean offers as he finishes up, patting a pillow softly, “You are my guest after all.”

Cas tsks as he rises from Dean’s bed, “Please, you’re pregnant. And even if you weren’t, I’m staying here at my own convenience, it should be me to take the couch.”

“Well you sure are polite,” Dean murmurs half-heartedly.

Cas sighs at the tone in his voice, “I’m sorry Dean. I really feel badly about pushing myself on you this way. I promise, it’s not how it looks. I want and will try to give you all the space you need.”

“It’s not that Cas.” Dean replies in a hollow voice, “It’s just...I mean we’re having a kid together and we barely know each other. You’re...you’re a stranger, and I’m carrying your baby. Doesn’t this bother you just a little?”

“It bothers me a lot.”

“So what do we do about it?”

Cas sighs, plopping down on his bed-couch, “Guess we just get to know each other.” Dean wants to respond, but an overwhelming yawn stops him. He stretches his arms high above his head, mewing like an exhausted kitten.

“You look beat, how about we get to sleep?” Cas suggests hesitantly.

Dean nods tiredly, “Sorry Cas, I’m so sleepy all the time lately.”

Cas smiles as he and Dean both climb into their respective beds, “I hear that’s normal when it comes to pregnancy. Especially in your position.”

“My position huh?” Dean inquires as he flicks off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

Cas gives him a little smile, “Yeah...your position.”

Dean rolls on his side, curling his body protectively around his bump, “Hey Cas?” he asks after a quiet moment.

“Yeah?”

“Will you say something in French?”

A small chuckle, “Why?”

Dean sighs, “I want-I want the baby to grow up in a well-cultured environment if that makes sense. Starting early...making her smart...maybe she’ll make better choices than me.”

“You want me to speak French to the baby so she’ll be smarter?”

Dean returns to laying on his back, although that will probably change in a few moments “Yeah. Just...say some stuff, I kinda want to hear it too.”

“Alright… um… b _onjour bebe. Je suis votre papa. vous etes pas encore la. l'autre papa est ici. Papa veut que vous grandissez intelligent et sain. Je t'aime bébé. Bonsoir_.”

Jeez, if Dean thinks Cas sounds pretty when he speaks English, the guy’s a fucking voice-model when it comes to French. His voice flows out like a rich, sweet caramel that makes Dean’s mouth water for more. “That was beautiful Cas,” Dean admits, “Never heard anyone sound so pretty.”

“Thanks Dean.”

“What did you say to her?”

 “I just told her hello. That I’m her dad and you want me to speak French to her so she grows up well rounded. And...that I love her.”

Dean smiles into his pillow, “What about German?”

“I don’t know much.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“ _ich liebe dich, Baby. Gute Nacht mein süßer_. That’s all I’ve got, sorry.”

“You’re pretty cool Cas, you know that?”

“Hey, thanks Dean. You are too.” -


	3. Hooptie Honeys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg sorry I'm uploading again but I got so many sweet comments that it inspired me to go on a writing bender. And I'm seriously loving this story, this chapter was a BLAST to write! Thanks so much!
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts :)
> 
> (protective Cas is the living end uwu)

Dean wakes up to the nausea, as usual. It’s not so bad this morning, and he manages to completely get out of bed and down the hall in time to lean over the toilet and vomit gruesomely. Honestly, this is his more preferred version of morning sickness; sometimes he can’t move in time to reach the toilet. Too many times he’s woken up and immediately barfed all over himself.

“Dean?”

He lifts his head and turns it slightly to the side, spotting Cas standing in the doorway. He’s wearing a pair of Dean’s pajamas, the pants rolled up twice at the waist because even before Dean’s expanding belly was a problem, he weighed more than Cas. His dark hair is neatly combed, as if the guy somehow didn’t get bedhead. For some reason, Dean finds himself annoyed at that; he’s had a military cut for as long as he can remember, and _his_ hair gets messy when he sleeps, not Cas’ longer dark locks that curl slightly at the neck?

“Morning Cas,” Dean manages roughly, coughing and wiping at his mouth, “what time is it?”

“It’s nine thirty, everyone else left. Your parents thought it would be best if I stayed home and watched over you while you’re resting.”

Dean frowns, licking his chapped lips as he flushes the toilet of his puke, “You talked to my parents?”

“We had a long discussion,” Cas hesitates, then crosses the tile and sits down criss-cross beside Dean, “your father offered me a job at his garage.”

Dean quirks an eyebrow up and leans on his elbow against the toilet seat, “He did?”

Cas nods, “Mhm. It was very generous, we both think it’s important that I get a job to help support you and the baby. After all, I got you pregnant and I’m living on your couch.” Dean goes to speak, but Cas holds his hand up to stop it, “No Dean, I am going to do whatever I can to make up for what I’ve done to you. So I took the job, I start next week.”

“It’s Friday today, you only have a weekend to prepare. Do you even _know_ anything about cars?”

Cas bites his lip, “I know some things. I’m sure I’ll learn on the job.”

Dean sighs, “Cas you can’t just-”

“Please Dean, just let me do this. I need to feel like I’m actually useful to you instead of just.. _taking_.”

Dean knows it’s futile to argue when Cas’ mind is so set, so he offers up, “If you need help or have questions, you can ask me.”

“Thank you Dean, I might have to take you up on that. Now, you should probably eat something right? Take a vitamin? Stop throwing up please?”

Chuckling, Dean nods and allows Cas to hook an arm around his waist and help him to his feet. They walk into the kitchen together and Dean proceeds with his usual morning routine. His prenatal vitamin, his one-A-day teen vitamin, and his disgusting caffeine free tea that Ellen insists is good for the baby. Then, he makes his way to the fridge, “You eat yet Cas?”

Castiel shakes his head, “No, not yet.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Just since six.”

“Jesus, why haven’t you eaten?”

“This isn’t my house,” Cas’ face turns red, “I wasn’t comfortable just going through your kitchen alone.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Okay dork, I’m gonna make an omelette, interested?”

“Yes absolutely….should you be using the stove?”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Maybe I should make it.”

Dean thinks Cas’ overbearing grandmother attitude is going to old real fast, but he shrugs, “Alright. You’re probably a better cook than I am anyway.”

Dean moves over and sits down heavily at the table, while Cas begins thumbing through the fridge for ingredients, “I took a few culinary classes in tenth grade. I’m no expert though. Do you have any spinach?”

“Spinach?” Dean’s face screws up in disgust, “Why would you ask me that?”

Cas arches an eyebrow matter-of-factly, “Spinach is good for a growing fetus, Dean.”

Dean groans, “yeah and it tastes like armpit.”

“Nevermind, I found it.”

Dean sighs as Cas takes the ingredients -which unfortunately includes spinach- and begins the cooking process. He watches Cas move about the kitchen, humming quietly to himself as he delicately crafts the omelettes. Dean looks away when Cas sprinkles the crushed spinach into the omelettes. Disgusting. Eating his vegetables is like, the worst part of being pregnant. Dean likes greasy cheeseburgers, seasoned french fries and apple pie. Lately it seems like all he’s been eating is bland tea and fucking greens. He looks up as Cas places the omelette in front of him. Okay, he admits, it looks pretty good. He can see the leafy green spinach peaking out every so often, but the amount of cheese Cas included really makes up for it. Cas sits beside him with his own omelette, and they begin eating.

“I’m impressed,” Dean tells him, “this isn’t atrocious.”

Cas chuckles, “How sweet of you.”

“Thanks for the breakfast though, really. I appreciate it. And good looking out with the spinach,” he sighs, “It is good for the baby.”

Cas says, “I take it you’re not too happy changing your eating habits?”

Dean groans, “You have no idea. I went from eating every greasy food in the book to organic grass-fed crap. I like my junk food,” Dean pats his belly, which is really more baby than pudge at the moment, but usually it’s soft anyway, “that’s why I’m so fat.”

Cas frowns, watching as Dean continues to eat without seeming to notice what he’d just said, “You’re not... _fat_.”

Dean snorts, swallowing, “It is what it is Cas.”

“You’re chubby,” Cas amends, “And it’s very cute.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean inquires sarcastically, “isn’t it just adorable how much of a fat fuck I am?”

He’s not usually so brunt and open with his insecurities, but his hormones have been making the most personal shit spill out at inopportune times. A few weeks ago he and Bobby had caught the end of a Dr. Sexy MD marathon and he’d burst into tears. He’d bawled for an hour, and Bobby isn’t exactly the most warm and fuzzy person on Earth, so his attempts to comfort Dean were pretty futile. And at the doctors office last month, Dr. Bradbury had made an offhand comment about Dean “having no trouble gaining enough weight” and he’d sniffled into Ellen’s shirt the whole drive home. This really isn’t like Dean, it’s just his hormonal changes going whacky with him, which is probably why Cas is staring at him in a way that makes him uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” he manages, face red as he picks up his empty plate and deposits it in the sink, “I didn’t mean to...this baby makes me say what I'm thinking. Anyway, I have to do my chores.”

“Chores? But you’re pregnant.”

Dean laughs, “Why do you think that’s like a free pass to slack off? I do chores when I’m s _ick._ ”

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Like I’m actually gonna sit around and do nothing all weekend. Don’t you do chores Cas?”

Cas’ face turns the same shade of crimson that Dean’s had just been, “I have a maid.” he says.

Oh Jesus.

“Well,” Cas says in response to Dean’s silence, “I’ll help you do them. What’s first?”

“Washing the dishes,” Dean says, and Cas gets up, bringing his half-eaten omelette to the sink. Dean disposes of it in the dish disposal, and asks, “do you want to wash or dry?”

“Um…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never done the dishes.”

“Not exactl-”

“Oh god, don’t finish that sentence. You can dry them.”

Together -well, mostly Dean- they finish up the dishes and put them away. Next up is vacuuming which, surprise surprise, Cas has never done either. Dean makes him do this part, because his feet get sore as hell after walking around with a vacuum for too long, and it couldn’t hurt Cas to learn how. After that is laundry, which is something Cas _has_ done, but Dean refuses his offer for help with this one. All the Singer-Winchester kids have to wash their own clothes, and the last thing Dean wants Cas to see are his fucking stretchy maternity jeans. Just the thought of them makes him cringe.

Instead, Dean asks Cas if he can make Dean’s bed, which the blue-eyed boy is all too eager to help out with. In between loads of clothes Dean dusts around his room and picks up a few miscellaneous items astray on his floor. By the time Dean’s packed all his clothes into the dryer, all of Dean’s chores are finished and it’s around noon. Cas and Dean both take turns showering and dressing -Cas having to wear the same outfit he’d worn yesterday, although Ellen was kind enough to wash it for him last night- and then Dean takes his freshly washed clothes from the dryer.

“Do you want to get lunch?” Cas asks him as Dean begins folding his clothes.

Dean purses his lips, “Yeah what do you want? I think we have stuff for tacos in the fridge-”

“No I mean, go out with me, to lunch.”

Dean lifts his head from the clothes and stares at Cas, who’s sitting nervously at the edge of his bed, “Like...like a date?”

Cas fidgets with his hands, Dean’s noticed he does this when he’s anxious, “it can be anything you want it to be.”

Dean considers his words carefully, “Yeah I guess that’d be alright. Do you have your car?” Cas nods, and Dean continues, “Let me just finish folding these.”

There are a few moments of comfortable silence, and then Cas gasps, “oh my god.”

Dean’s head jerks up again, “What?”

He presses a hand over his mouth, face reddening at his outburst, “Sorry...that’s just really cute, what you’re doing there.”

Dean glances down again to where he’s halfway through folding a shirt. He’s using his belly as a surface to fold it on, which has been very convenient in the most recent months of his pregnancy. He hardly even notices that he does it, but apparently Cas thinks it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Dean jokes, slightly uncomfortable with Cas’ staring. He goes back to his folding, only to have his attention diverted again by a flashing light. His eyes pull up just in time to see Cas slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Cas I was _joking_.”

Cas shrugs, “It was good advice.”

“If you show that picture to anyone…” Dean warns “I- nobody needs to see me like this.”

Cas’ brows pull down, “What do you mean ‘like this’?”

“You know,” Dean gestures down to himself, “all pregnant and stuff.”

“Don’t you want pictures to show the baby?”

“Of me pregnant? No.”

Cas tilts his head to the side slightly, “but...moments like these, they’re memories.”

“Cas I’m folding clothes, this isn’t a...a moment.”

“Dean every _second_ is a moment. And in this one, you’re being really damn cute.”

Dean sighs, knowing there’d be no arguing when it comes to his own insane thoughts, “Do what you want Cas, but don’t show it to anyone.”

“I’m not, this memory is for me.”

-

It takes them a while to decide on a restaurant for lunch, because Cas can’t eat meat and Dean’s stomach is very picky when it comes to certain smells, but finally they settle on a cute little cafe in town. As always when Dean goes into public, he gets judgemental stare and back-turned whispers. He’s grown used to it over the past few weeks, but Cas appears overwhelmed.

“Is it always this way?” he asks uncomfortably as they’re seated at a nice little table in the outside pavillion.

Dean laughs, “Yeah pretty much. It’s like I’ve got a sign on my gut that says ‘ _judge me, I’m a whore_!”

Cas grimaces at this, “You’re not a whore.”

“I know that, but they don’t. I’m a teenage kid with a belly full of baby, that’s all they care about.”

“Why should they care so much?” Cas grumbles, “it’s not like teenage pregnancy is easy on it’s own, why are they making it harder for you? And who are they to judge anyway? I don’t think they’re perfect.”

“Touchy Cas, touchy.”

“Sorry,” he sighs and cards his fingers through his delicately placed hair, “just...when I see what you go through it makes me so guilty.”

“It takes two to tango Cas,” Dean promises, “this is as much my fault as yours. Nobody forced us to have unprotected sex. No sense feeling guilty, we’ve just got to move forward and try to make the best of it.”

They thank the waiter as he brings them their drinks. Cas takes a few sips of his lemonade, and then looks at Dean, “I’m sorry.”

“What did I just say about being guilty?”

“It’s not that. I’m sorry about the way I reacted when you first told me...insisting that you get rid of the baby and being so harsh. I didn’t mean it then and I don’t mean it now. I was just...afraid.”

“I understand,” Dean tells him truthfully, “judging by the way your dad reacted when he found out, I don’t blame you for being freaked. It hurt me, that crap you said, but you’re forgiven Cas.”

Cas lets his breath out in a whoosh, like he’s been holding a 200 pound weight on his shoulders and is now relieved of it, “thank you Dean.”

“No problem Cas, now help me decide between the chicken sandwich and the lasagna.”

“Get the tofu-burger.”

“Not on your _life_ Church Boy.”

-

Dean is seriously beginning to regret that lasagna.

He and Cas are trekking down the small inner city streets of Lawrence, window shopping and just hanging out. Dean wouldn’t mind this, because Castiel’s company is pleasant as fuck, but his feet are sore and he’s growing more nauseous with each second.

“Dean? Are you okay?” Cas’ walking slows a little, “are we going too fast?”

“Huh? Oh n-no Cas I’m alright.” he rolls his eyes, which doesn’t do much for his already sick stomach, pushing Cas’ concern off, “jeez can’t I walk without you hovering?”

Cas bites his lower lip, “You just don’t look so good.”

“Dammit Cas, for the last time I am fine, would you stop-” Dean’s words are cut off by his gag. He whirls away from Cas and leans over a shrub, hurling up his guts into the nicely trimmed greenery.

“Oh Dean.” Cas’ hands are rubbing up and down Dean’s back again, and the low-key cinnamon smell of his body doesn’t aggravate Dean’s nausea like he expects, “alright, okay, get it up. Then we’ll find somewhere to sit.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean groans, spitting and righting himself, “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Cas’ mouth presses into a worried shape, “I’m concerned for you Dean, this can’t be normal.”

“I wouldn’t say _normal_ , but my OB told me some people go through it.”

Cas scrubs nervously at his face, “you’ve thrown up twice today. You’re what, 18 weeks in? That’s far too late in a pregnancy to be getting sick this severely.”

Dean squints through the sunlight and stares at Cas, both impressed by the fact that Cas has such extensive knowledge of the process that Dean’s body is going through, and touched that even before they were friends, Cas was keeping track of Dean’s pregnancy.

“I appreciate the concern Cas,” Dean tells him truthfully, “but some of us just have a harder time than others.”

Cas snaps his fingers as if he’s suddenly remembered something, “Ah! How did I forget? It’s right down the street- Dean, are you okay to walk a little more?”

“Yeah I’m fine Cas, why?”

“I just remembered, god I’m an idiot! C’mon come with me.” he slips his hand into Dean’s, and before Dean can react to that either negatively or positively, he’s pulling the pregnant half of the pair down the streets eagerly. They arrive at a small herbal tea shop that has a lot of candles and vegetarian foods. Dean assumes this is a place that Cas frequents, because he greets the woman behind the counter informally, “Hey Shayla.”

“Afternoon Castiel,” she says to him with a bright smile, “who’s this?”

“This is Dean, remember that ginger tea you gave me when Anna had that stomach bug? The one that helps nausea?”

Shayla nods, quirking an eyebrow up with interest, “Yeah, ginger is always good for nausea.”

Cas grins, “Can I get a few cases of that tea please?”

-

“Cas, your tea is fucking magic.”

Cas grins at the praise, watching as Dean reclines on the sofa beside Jo and sips delicately at the steaming mug. It’s six in the evening, post-dinner and Dean hasn’t felt one stir in his gut since bringing the ginger tea to his lips.

Jo wrinkles her nose, “God Dean that smells like feet.”

Dean scowls at her, “your niece is making me hurl up everything I eat, I think you can handle a little feet smell.”

Sam snorts from the loveseat, where he’s engrossed in an art project, “Nice, say _her niece_ like this is all her fault.”

Dean flips his brother the bird just as Bobby enters, “C’mon guys, can’t we behave for like, ten minutes?”

“Sorry,” Sam mutters.

“Me too,” Dean says, smiling half-heartedly.

“I for one, am not sorry.” Jo deadpans, “your tea still reeks.”

Dean rolls his eyes, and pokes at Cas who’s sitting on the floor in front of him, “thank you for the tea Cas.”

“Yeah,” Bobby agrees, plopping down on the couch beside Jo, “from someone who’s had to see his son hugging the porcelain bowl every day for the past few months, thank you sincerely.”

Cas smiles in response, looking back behind him at Dean’s father, “it was the least I could do.”

This time, Dean doesn’t sass Castiel for saying so. Because hey, Cas is making an effort. He’s being really great to Dean. He’d gotten himself kicked out of his house just so he could be here for the baby, and that’s more than Dean could’ve ever asked for.

“Speaking of,” Bobby says, perking up, “your shift at the garage starts earlier than I expected. Eight o’clock this Sunday morning and then every weekday from four to nine.”

Dean can see that Cas is nervous, because he’s fiddling with his hands, but he responds calmly, “that sounds wonderful Mr. Singer, thank you so much.”

“Please you're the father of my grandkid, call me Bobby.”

Cas smile returns, and his cheeks dimple with genuine pleasure, “Thank you Bobby.”

-

Dean visits Cas for lunch on Sunday.

He takes the old Impala that he and his dad restored as a fun little project last year, a travel sized mug of ginger tea, and a tofu-burger from that weird herbal place Cas had brought him to on Saturday. Cas’ lunch break should be from 11:30 to 12:30. so he’ll have an hour to relax and get something in his stomach. Dean’s glad for this, Cas is going to be working an awful lot for a high school student, he deserves a lengthy break during his shift. Dean pulls up in front of _Singer Auto_ , kills the engine and gets out of the car with some difficulty. He hasn’t driven the Chevy since his tummy began to get in the way, and it was a little more difficult to navigate than he’d expected. He passes through the familiar garage, waving and smiling to Bobby’s employees, who greet him kindly and chat briefly. Finally, he finds Cas in a secluded section of the garage, attempting, and failing, to change the oil on a beat up Honda Civic.

“Cas?” Dean says, hoping he doesn’t startle the other boy too much.

Cas turns from where he’s leaning over the hood, shirt and hands stained with grease, “Dean.”he says, surprised.

Dean takes a moment to admire the way Cas looks right now. Dressed in the _Singer Auto_ pale gray jumpsuit with the top of his slick, muscled chest sticking out, hair ( _finally_ ) messy with the events of the day, grease and sweat- stained body. He doesn’t mean to oggle the poor guy, but his hormones are going nuts, and he’s tempted to drop Cas’ food and jump Church Boy right here right now.

“What are you doing here?”

Dean blinks out of his sex-crazed stupor and smiles weakly, holding up the bag with Cas’ food, “brought you lunch. Your break started five minutes ago you know.”

Cas smiles widely, “Thank you Dean, that’s so nice of you. And yes I know...I’m ah, having a bit of trouble.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I am doing everything wrong.”

Dean sets the bag down on one of the tool boxes and puts his hands on his hips, “Well Cas, your first mistake is: the drain plug is under the car, not under the _hood_.”

“The what?”

“Okay, first of all, you don’t have the right tools. You need an oil filter, an oil filter wrench and a ratchet.” Cas stares at him, and Dean laughs, moving towards the tool box and plucking out each item individually, explaining what they do slowly so Cas gets the hang of it. “Now, use the jack and lift the front of the car so you can get a better view of what you’re working with.”

After Dean briefly explains how the jack words -and tries to give a demonstration, which has Cas practically _growling_ at him to step away from the machinery- Cas lifts the car so the underside is more visible.

“Okay,” Dean carefully squats down beside the car, one hand on his lower back to prevent losing his balance, “see this here? That’s the drain plug. You’re going to use the ratchet and get that off to let the oil drain out.”

Cas follows the instruction, letting the oil drain into the drain pan. He and Dean wait patiently for the oil to empty, then Dean continues his direction, “now, use the wrench and take off the oil filter, that’s this right here. Counter clockwise. Now replace the old filter with the new one.”

Cas nods, glancing back behind him at Dean, who’s still squatting beside the car, squinting up into the intricate workings of it.

“You’re doing great Cas.”

“Thank you Dean. What’s next?”

“Fit the new drain plug on there, that goes right here. Wipe off the excess oil and seal it on with the wrench.”

“Alright, now we go under the hood to fill up the oil.”

Cas stands up straight and watches Dean like a hawk as he slowly rises to his feet, proud that he keeps his balance the entire time. Cas lowers the car back to it’s normal height, and opens the hood again.

“Okay,” Dean leans over the hood a little so his baby bump is above the hot inside of the car's control center, “you want to fill the engine with oil-”

“Wait,” Cas interrupts, pulling Dean back a little so his stomach is a good distance away from the car's interior, “sorry.” he says sheepishly, “that was...a bit too close for comfort.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “whatever you say Cas. Listen up now. This here is the oil cap, pull that right off. Yup, good job. Do we have a funnel? Yeah there. Put the funnel in there, and fill it up with about four quarts.” They go through the rest of the steps, slowly and meticulously, Dean standing at a safe distance but giving Cas detailed instructions.

They finish soon after, and Cas still has a half hour for his lunch. He scrubs off and sits beside Dean in the garage’s cafeteria, pulling out his food eagerly. “Thank you,” he practically moans around the fake burger, “amazing.”

“No problem Cas,” Dean assures him with a toothy grin, watching the usually composed Castiel practically lose it over a burger.

“And thank you for helping me out,” Cas’ face turns red, “I was completely lost at sea there, I’ve never changed the oil on a car in my life. You saved my ass. You’re pretty damn smart.”

Dean’s face feels just as hot as Cas’ looks, “It was nothin’ Cas.”

“I mean it, you’re a lot more intelligent than you give yourself credit for.”

“Stop,” Dean insists, feeling uncomfortable with his praise.

Cas sighs, “One day you’re going to admit that you’re awesome.”

“A cold day in Hell Cas.”

“Maybe you should come back tomorrow and help me out again.”

Dean smirks, “Maybe I will.”


	4. l'amour de ma vie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lalalalal *pretends tonights episode never happened*
> 
> enjoy the fluff! Let me know your thoughts :) <3

Dean’s 24 week ultrasound comes around on a Saturday.

Cas is at work, he’s been there for almost a month now, and he’s starting to really get the hang of it. Naturally he’ll never be as good with cars at Dean, but he’s not drowning anymore. Jo, Sam and Bobby went into Kansas City today to run some errands, and Ellen is supposed to be home from work at three to take Dean to his appointment. Castiel’s father still refuses to speak to him. Cas has tried numerous times over the past few weeks to contact him, he’ll give notes to Anna at school, he’ll call and leave countless voicemails, he’d even tried going over to his house before being run off by his older brother Michael. Dean knows it hurts Cas that his father has abandoned him, but to his credit, he hasn’t seemed nearly as upset as any normal kid would.

At 2:30, Dean decides to call Ellen. She picks up on the second ring, “Hey hon.”

“Hi Ellen...are you on your way home?”

“Oh shit! Your appointment. Dean I’ve got a client until four, booked last minute.”

“Well, that’s okay. I’ll just take the Impala.”

“It’s at the garage, your father’s fixing the windshield wiper. Cas will be home in a few minutes right? Why don’t you just have him take you?”

“Ellen I-”

“Dean babe, he _is_ the father of that baby, there’s nothing weird about him going with you to hear his child’s heartbeat. Look dear I need to go, I’ll see you at six tonight. Love you.”

Dean curses as the line disconnects and he’s left staring stupidly at the phone. Just as he’s convincing himself that the 18 mile walk wouldn’t be too stressful for his swollen feet, Cas enters through the front door. His hair is disheveled and sweaty, his body reeks of grease and gasoline, and his jumpsuit is stained in a few places. There’s a small line of stubble sprouting up on his jaw, which is unusual since Cas seems to pride himself on being well polished and hygienic. Dean figures it’s probably because he’s been so busy in the past month, keeping a 4.0 GPA and managing to work four hours on the weekdays and two on the weekends is extremely impressive, and time consuming. He’s been stressed the past few days, so Dean’s been keeping his distance and trying not to upset him.

“Hi,” he says stupidly as Cas steps in.

“Hey Dean,” his voice is exhausted, and Dean decides he’s going to reschedule his appointment, there’s no way he can ask this of Cas after he’s already so busy.

“How was work?” Cas smiles tiredly and crosses the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water before responding, “Long. I’m gonna drink this and then take a nap.”

“You could always just quit-”

“Dean stop, I _like_ working.” Cas assures him, “it’s the first time in 17 years that I’ve actually done something for myself, and I’ll admit it feels way too good getting a paycheck every two weeks.”

“You’re going to get burnt out doing so much.”

Cas looks over at Dean and actually gets an eyeful of him; bang slung over his shoulder, dressed neatly, hair combed and shoes on, “where are you going?”

Dean glances down, face falling slightly, “I had a doctor’s appointment.”

Cas quirks an eyebrow up, licking his lips after sipping his water, “is it...baby stuff?”

“Just a routine checkup.”

“You said you _had_ an appointment?”

“Yeah Ellen was supposed to drive me but she can’t make it and the Impala is at the garage, I’m just gonna reschedule for next week.”

Cas hesitates, “I can drive you. I don’t have to go inside or anything if you don’t want me to, but you should go.”

“No Cas it’s fine, you’re exhausted. I can wait a week to see the baby.”

“We- you get to see the baby this time?”

Dean nods, “Yeah. Didn’t get one during the 5th month or the fourth, but the baby’s supposed to start moving soon and I might be able to get the gender.”

Cas eyes Dean with interest, “has the baby….moved yet?”

Dean shakes his head, “Not sure. It hasn’t felt too much different than things usually feel in there, with the exception of a few odd flutters, but hopefully she’ll start being active.”

“I don’t mind driving you,” Cas insists, “really. If you just let me change quickly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

Dean reluctantly accepts Castiel’s generous offer, and waits in the kitchen while Cas cleans up. Then, Cas emerges from his and Dean’s shared room, and they load into his car. It’s a really fancy blue car, and _ring-a-ding-ding_ , it’s a Tesla. Dean is not even slightly surprised.

“Cas,” Dean says as they pull on to the freeway, “you aren’t even doing the speed limit.”

He glances sideways at Dean and then immediately back to the road, “I’m only two miles under it, that’s safer.”

“Are you always such a nerd when you drive?”

He bites his lip, not looking at Dean, “I have precious cargo aboard.”

“Man, the baby’s _inside me_. That’s like, ten layers of bubble wrap inside a metal tube. She’s fine.”

“I wasn’t just talking about the _baby_ , Dean.”

Dean doesn’t think he can handle trying to figure out what that means, so he ignores it, “So um...you can...come in with me if you want. To the appointment.”

Cas looks like he’s trying to suppress his smile, but he’s failing epically, “That’s great, thank you Dean.”

“Hey no need to thank me, it's not just my baby in here.” he pats his side and smiles weakly, “just..don’t look at my belly okay?”

Cas’ brows furrow, smile vanishing, “Why not?”

Dean’s face feels like fucking lava, but he forces the words out in a hushed, unintelligible mumble.

“What?”

He mumbles again, and Cas strains to hear, “I can’t understand you when you grumble Dean.”

“I said I have _stretch marks_.”

Cas stares at Dean like he’s got three heads, “So?”

“So!” Dean groans, “they’re...they’re ugly Cas.”

“Dean everyone gets stretch marks, it’s normal.”

“I know that numb nuts, just...I….it’s embarrassing.”

Cas shakes his head, “It’s a normal thing that happens to your skin when it stretches to accommodate a human being. There’s nothing embarrassing about your body doing exactly what it needs to.”

“Jesus, can’t you be less…. _understanding_?”

“Huh?”

“Are you 40 or 17 Cas?”

“Dean, I’m just being honest.”

Dean huffs his breath out like a child, crossing his arms, “fine, but don’t observe the stretch marks when you see them, okay? Don’t comment on them, don’t try to make me feel better, don’t even _think_ about them.”

“Anything you want.”

-

They arrive at the doctor’s office shortly after Dean’s tantrum. He’s finding it increasingly hard to get out of the car nowadays, but he doesn’t ask Cas -who watches him exit the vehicle looking like he’s ready to sprint forward and catch Dean if he falls- for any help. After the stretch mark debacle, Dean doesn’t think he can handle any more humiliation. They walk in the office together and Dean signs himself in. The wait is short, and within a few minutes a perky Nurse Rosen is ushering them back into the room.

“So this must be the daddy?” she asks sweetly as she takes Dean’s blood.

Cas smiles at her, charismatic as ever, “Yes, I’m Castiel.”

“So nice of you to come,” she grins, “I’m sure Dean appreciates the company.”

“I’m sure Dean can speak for himself,” Dean snaps at her, to which she laughs.

“Hormones got you grumpy today dear?”

“Among other things.”

She wisely ignores this, and waits with Cas while Dean takes his urine test. Then she makes him step on the scale, which he discovers much to his horror that he’s gained- “Seventeen pounds!” Nurse Rosen says pleasantly, “seventeen pounds in six months, that puts your current weight at 215 pounds. Good Dean, that’s great.”

“That’s not... isn’t that too much?”

He can’t believe his eyes. He’s put on _seventeen_ pounds in the past 24 weeks. He weighs 215 pounds.

“No Dean you’re right on track!”

Cas is smiling, but Dean argues with her again, “but isn’t the baby only like 12 ounces right now?”

“Yes but your body is gaining weight for the placenta, your blood supply, the amniotic fluid and breast tissue. Also, your body needs extra fat stored up for when you’re breast feeding.”

“So Dean’s weight gain is good then?” Cas confirms from where he’s standing against the wall.

“Definitely,” Nurse Rosen assures him, “Dean, don’t worry about this, everyone gets insecure when they’re pregnant, but it’s just a sign that your baby is healthy!”

Dean scowls, “Are we done?”

“Oh right, yeah I’ll take you guys to the ultrasound room. Dr. Bradbury should be in shortly.”

They follow her down a corridor into a clinical looking doctor’s office. Dean dutifully ignores the various torture tools in one of the stupidly open drawers, and climbs up on the exam table, fidgeting.

“Dean,” Cas says as he stands beside the table, “Quit thinking about your weight.”

"I’m not-”

“Don’t lie.”

He sighs, “I wouldn’t expect you to get it Cas.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Why you’re not happy about a healthy baby is beyond me.”

“Don’t twist my words,” Dean snaps, crossing his arms, “I just don’t like being so...big. Especially now, after I have the baby I’m going to be even fatter than usual.”

Cas cringes, “I hate when you speak that way Dean. You’re beautiful, your body is wonderful, having a little extra weight on it doesn’t change that. Pregnant or not.”

Dean is glad he added that last bit, because it’s not so much the pregnancy weight that really bothers Dean. It’s the thought that even before getting pregnant he was fairly chubby, and afterwards he’ll be even larger. For some reason, he believes Cas when he tells Dean he likes his extra pudge. There’s something so earnest and naive in his stupid, multifaceted eyes that is hard to be distrustful of.

He’s about to respond, when Bradbury enters, smirking, “Dean, I see you brought a friend.”

“This is Castiel,” Dean tells her, “the baby’s dad.”

“Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Doctor Bradbury, Dean’s OB.” she shakes his hand kindly, “You can call me Charlie though.”

“It’s nice to meet you doctor,” Castiel says respectfully, ignoring her informal offer.

She grins, “Dean, you’ve got a keeper. He’s respecting the PHD.”

Dean snorts, “A keeper. I’ll make sure to remember that Doc.”

“Dean, you know _you’re_ allowed to call me Charlie anytime.”

“You’re like 25, it’s weird when people call you doctor.”

She chuckles, “Okay, let’s have a look at this baby hmm?”

“Sounds good.” Reluctantly, Dean pulls up his stretched out Metallica t-shirt, letting the fabric rest just above the outward curve of his stomach. He knows Cas is staring; how could he not be? He’s probably never seen a pregnant belly before, let alone one that carries _his_ baby. Besides, he’s only ever seen Dean’s body once, and while Dean was still chubby, he wasn’t exactly so…swollen.

Charlie adds insult to injury by measuring his tummy, “your fundal height is 25 centimeters.”

“Wait, what’s that?” Cas asks, looking a little lost.

Charlie smiles at him, “the distance from his pubic bone to the top part of his uterus, helps give us an idea of how the baby is growing.”

Cas glances at Dean and then back to Charlie, “So is 25 centimeters good?”

“Yes Castiel, the baby appears to be growing at just the right rate. Dean you’ve gained about seventeen pounds, give or take a few ounces. That’s excellent. How’s your morning sickness been?”

“Gone,” Dean says, perking up, “Cas found me this magic ginger tea that made it vanish.”

“Ginger has been known to help with nausea in some cases, good thinking Castiel.”

“Thanks,” Cas smiles.

“Alright, enough chit-chat, let’s see this baby. Warning Dean, this gel is cold as a witch’s tit.”

Dean shivers as usual when the cool blue gel hits his skin, but his attention quickly turns to the monitor as Charlie begins roving the wand around his belly. It takes a minute, but then she stops on the patch of skin just right of his belly button -which is no longer an innie-, presses a few keys on the monitor’s keyboard, and a low thump fills the room.

“Your baby’s heartbeat is strong,” she grins at the awed expression on Castiel’s face, “first time hearing it can be a little overwhelming. That’s your baby’s heart, Castiel.”

Cas tears his eyes away from Dean’s face to look at Charlie, “Wow.”

She snorts, “Don’t I know it. Okay, here we go.” she points to the monitor, where an image of the baby is beginning to appear, “See this lump here? That’s the baby’s head.”

Dean groans, “it’s huge!”

“Good luck with that,” she laughs, “oh okay, and here’s an arm, and a leg.”

Dean only half-notices when Cas slips his hand into Dean’s. He doesn’t object. In fact, the soft, supple shape of Cas’ fingers makes this whole thing all the more intimate. Charlie smiles at their interlocked hands, “What do you think of this Castiel?”

He shakes his head slightly, and Dean feels his hand being squeezed, “That’s amazing. That’s our baby. Wow.”

“Wow indeed. Now, would you guys like to know the gender?”

“Oh my god yes,” Dean insists, “I’ve been dying.”

“What’s your preference?”

Cas smiles, “We both expect a girl, but I’m pretty sure I’d be overjoyed with either.”

Dean agrees, “At first I thought I’d want a girl, but right now I’m just praying they come out with all their fingers and toes.”

“Well…” Charlie squints at the monitor and a grin splits across her face, “looks like you two are getting a little boy.”

Tears break the surface of Dean’s skin. A little boy. A son. His son. His baby boy. He laughs breathlessly, surprising himself by being unable to stop the hot tears down his cheeks. He hadn’t expected to be this happy over finding out the sex of the baby, but he’s so fucking excited he can hardly breathe. H

e looks down at his tummy, “Sorry little guy.” he sniffs, “we’ve been calling you ‘she’.”

Cas lets out a little laugh, and Dean’s relieved to see that there are tears in his eyes too, “A little you.” he whispers, his grip on Dean’s hand tightening.

Dean snorts, wiping his eyes lamely, “If we’re lucky, a little _you_.”

“A little bit of both of you,” Charlie amends, smiling widely as she prints out two copies of the ultrasound photos, handing them to the boys, “You’re good to go Dean.”

She wipes his belly clean of the gel and he eagerly rolls his shirt back down, allowing Cas to help him off the table. Cas doesn’t release his hand after they’re both righted, which Dean shamelessly does nothing about.

“I’ll be seeing you next month?” she inquires. Dean nods, and she says, “almost to the finish line Dean. Just a little longer and your son will be here.”

“Thanks Charlie,” he says gratefully, “we’ll see you.”

They exit the building, and Cas turns to Dean with excitement on his face, “ _we’ll_ see her?”

Dean blushes, pulling his hand out of Cas’ and sticking them in his pockets, where the baby’s pictures are stuffed, “Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d want to come again or-”

Cas cuts him off by lurching forward as if on impulse, and mashing his lips against Dean’s. For a moment, he’s still. Then, he pulls his hands from his pockets and wraps them around Cas’ neck. Cas’ arms curl around Dean’s waist, and one of his palms flattens against Dean’s side, which is more intimate and comforting than Dean and Cas have really ever been, other than fucking. Dean is the one to deepen the kiss, finding a salvant in Castiel’s lips that he’s never had before. It’s not so much like a drug, because that doesn’t sound pleasant, but like a treat. Cas is the most decadent buffet Dean’s ever had. He’s the most endless, spacious workshop of cars just waiting to be dismantled. He’s the secret stash of baby magazines Dean keeps hidden in his sock drawer, because they’re full of tacky pastels that he loves more than he should. He’s everything Dean wants and everything he’s shameful of. Moments later, they simultaneously pull away for air. The setting sun glints off Cas’ eyes, making them almost three dimensional. Wind whips at the curls around his neck, and his lips pull up in a slight smile.

“Sorry,” he breathes, hooking his fingers through his belt loops, “don’t know what came over me.”

Dean chuckles, scratching the back of his neck bashfully, “No problem...sorry for attacking you there at the end.”

“I’m not complaining. So, a son.”

“A son.” Dean repeats as they walk towards the car together, “we’ve got to pick out a name.”

Cas grins as they climb into the Tesla, “Dean, after all I’ve put you through, you can name this kid Yoda.”

“Seriously Cas don’t tempt me because now I want to.”

“Yeah that’s probably a good idea, I shouldn’t encourage this.”

Dean laughs, leaning back against the passenger seat and pulling the ultrasound photo out to stare down at. The thought of Cas having the exact same one in his front pocket makes Dean’s heart warm in all the right ways. He settles in for the drive, more content than he’s been in a while.

-

They get home not much later, both elated from the news and the passionate kiss they’d shared. The house is buzzing with activity when they enter, Cas following carefully behind Dean. They step into the kitchen, just as Jo finishes shouting something at Sam. When the family sees them enter, they all freeze and plaster on fake smiles, which Dean knows means trouble, “What’s going on?” he demands.

“Nothing,” Ellen says innocently.

Dean glances behind him at the clock, “You said you wouldn’t be home until six. It’s five thirty.”

“Well I thought your appointment would take longer.”

Dean stares at her in disbelief and confusion and glances behind him at Cas for an explanation. Cas shrugs, looking just as puzzled as Dean.

“Well it don’t matter now,” Bobby assures him, “your surprise is finished.”

“Our _what_?”

“Just follow me guys,” Sam rolls his eyes at his disorganized parents and leads Cas and Dean down the hall. Reluctant, everyone else follows behind Sam, stopping at the garage door.

“The garage is getting fumigated,” Dean says stupidly.

Sam rolls his eyes and pushes the door open, stepping inside and holding the door for everyone else. Dean steps across the threshold, and gasps.

“Oh my.” Cas manages, eyes wide.

“When the hell did you guys have time to do this?” Dean demands, whirling in a disbelieving, shocked circle.

“Well, the garage has been getting “fumigated” for a few weeks now, are you really this gullible Dean?” Jo teases.

Dean scrubs his forehead, “I’m pregnant, I’m not rational. But I _know_ this must’ve cost a fortune.”

“Don’t think about price,” Ellen assures him, “we just want the baby to have somewhere cozy this to sleep.”

“This is incredible,” Cas says, “I mean...wow.”

The garage is now fully transformed into an upscale nursery. The cement floor has been replaced with a light yellow carpet. The walls are now insulated, so the room is just as warm as any other place in the house, and they’re painted a soft baby blue. There’s a huge, dark mahogany crib thats furnished with beautifully decorated blankets and pillows. The smaller, gray bassinet is right beside the crib, which Dean figures will be going in his room for the first few months after the baby’s born. The nursery is complete with a changing table, a plethora of toys and baby equipment, and even a little mobile that plays soft, lulling sounds.

Christ, he’s crying again, “You guys…” he weeps.

“Don’t you like it?” Cas asks him worriedly.

“It’s beautiful,” he sobs, sniffling and wiping his sleeve across his snotty nose, “It’s amazing. It’s perfect. It’s too much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t have to hon,” Ellen says kindly, kissing his forehead and hugging him tight.

“Group hug,” Jo enthuses, grabbing Cas’ wrist and pulling him into it. Bobby and Sam pack on soon after, with Dean smushed in the center of the hug. He grins, tears running down his cheeks and his family surrounding him. Dean knows everything is going to turn out just fine.

-

“Your family is so kind. We’re lucky to have them.” Cas says to Dean as they settle in their room later that night, both clad in pajamas.

Dean nods, climbing up on to his bed and pulling the covers up to his waist, “They’re insanely perfect.”

Cas looks like he’s been wanting to say something for a while, and is debating on blurting it out. He bites his lips, pauses for a second, and then seems to change his mind. Dean hopes what he’s about to ask is exactly what Cas is thinking, “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?”

The tension in the older boy’s body relaxes, and he says, “I’d love that.”

He gets up from the couch with his pillow and gets on the bed with Dean, hesitantly moving towards him. Dean leans over and clicks off the bedside lamp as Cas does so, plunging the room into darkness, save the glimmering moonlight from outside. Cas curls up behind Dean, “Can...can I spoon you?”

Dean chuckles at the way that sounds, but permits it, “Yeah Cas, I’d like that.”

Cas circles his arms around Dean, one hand resting on his tummy, the other sprawled up behind their heads. He burrows his face into Dean’s neck, “You’re so warm.”

“Got extra weight to keep me insulated,” Dean tells him, “baby’s gotta stay warm in there.”

Cas smiles and hums softly into Dean’s skin. Then, ever so silently, Cas’ fingers slowly slide into Dean’s shirt, where his index begins tracing the indents of stretch marks running up Dean’s sides and belly.

“Cas,” he murmurs gruffly, eyes closing at the soothing feeling, “What’re you doing?”

“Your stretch marks are not something to be ashamed of,” Cas murmurs quietly, “perfectly natural Dean.”

He’s about to argue -and inevitably kill the mood- when he feels something unusual. It’s not the usual light flutter that happens within him, it’s a hard, jarring tug against the front of his gut that makes his breath intake sharply.

Cas’ hand stills on Dean’s stomach, “Dean?”

“Did you feel it?” he whispers.

“Yes...was that...was he-”

“He kicked,” Dean laughs a little, settling his hand over Cas’, “you touched me and he kicked. He likes you.”

“Well...I certainly hope so.”

“That’s my boy,” Dean murmurs as the kicks become constant, rolling across his belly strongly, “let daddies know you’re okay.”

“Amazing…” Cas mumbles in awe.

“It happens to everyone Cas.”

“I didn’t mean the baby. I meant _you_.”

This time, Dean doesn’t argue. He nestles into the dip of Cas’ chest, and lets the movement of his child lull him to sleep.


	5. Cause and Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few words for you during this chapter: Good. Luck.
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts! Next chapter should be up soon :) Thanks! <3

Stairs are the fucking enemy. Dean hates them. He hates them he hates them he h _ates_ them. Why his school doesn’t have elevators available to 27 week pregnant kids is beyond him, but he’s seriously considering petitioning it. He’s already late to class, seeing as it had taken him at least four minutes to cross the courtyard, and now his trek up the stairs is pushing two minutes. Seriously, it’s ridiculous how slow he is these days. He sighs, leaning against one of the railings to take a deep breath. This kid’s already pushing on his lungs and making it hard to breathe when he sits still, but this much exertion is probably going to kill Dean.

“Are you okay?”

He lifts his head at the voice, and quirks an eyebrow up at his little sister Jo.

“Fine,” he waves his hand, “Why aren’t you in class?”

She glances behind her, her blonde ponytail hitting her neck, “I was on my way when I saw you struggling.”

“I’m not,” he pants, “I’m fine.”

She rolls her eyes, “C’mon Dean.” Without his permission, Jo takes his arm and helps him tackle the rest of the stairs. They reach the platform that leads into the second floor, and she releases him.

“Thanks,” he tells her, face red from both the exertion and his embarrassment.

“No sweat,” she assures him, hesitating, “Can you make it to class okay?”

His eyebrows pull up inquisitively, “Since when are you such a grandmother?”

She slaps his arm, “shut up! Least you could do is appreciate my help you know.”

“Sorry, I do.” he promises, “Just a little surprised, you’re not really one to be…”

“Nice?”

“I wasn’t going to say it.”

“You don’t have to,” she half-smiles, “it’s fine, I know. Look Dean, I know I’m not the most...charming person, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” she leans out and pokes his belly, “or my nephew.”

Excited by the unfamiliar touch, the baby begins his mid-morning acrobatics, which often include Dean having to sprint to the nearest toilet because the kid insists on using his bladder as a trampoline. Jo’s arm tears away, and she clutches it against her chest, eyes wide.

“It’s fine, it’s okay,” Dean promises the startled fifteen year old, “he does that all the time, it’s normal.”

“Oh…” she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from his stomach.

“Wanna feel it?”

“ _Oh_ ,” She repeats, and it’s her turn to blush, “Are you sure?”

“Duh, everyone but you has done it already. C’mon sis, go ahead.”

Cautiously, as if she’s afraid she’ll break him, Jo stretches her arm out and places her palm delicately on his stomach. Dean rolls his eyes, and takes her wrist, pressing her hand harder against his stomach so she can actually feel something. “Whoa,” she says, mesmerized, “that’s...holy shit he’s like moving. He’s like...wow he’s really in there isn’t he?”

Dean snorts, “Did you think I was just getting fatter?”

“Freaky,” she adds, to make up for the saccharine moment they’d just shared. She pulls her hand away and tucks it in her back pocket, like she doesn’t want anything to soil it’s pure touch.

“You need to get to class kid,” Dean says sternly, and she laughs.

“Right, you too. Uh….thanks Dean.”

“Me? Thank you.”

“Yeah yeah gratitude all around. See you later preggo.” she cheerily turns and walks away, taking the stairs two at a time. Dean smiles after her, it was nice to share an intimate moment with his sister, they don’t do it often. She’s not like Sammy and Ellen, she takes more after Bobby. They’re a little...rough around the edges. Dean appreciates that about his Jo though, she’s unique and funny and she doesn’t treat him like he’s a glass vase. Although, his arm still hurts from her slapping it. He smiles again, and heads into the building to English.

-

“Ecology class is a satanic invention.” Dean grumbles angrily to his belly, as he leans over his textbook and tries to understand the jargon in front of him. He isn’t sure when exactly he’d started talking out loud to the baby, but it’s become a bad habit.

“Figured I’d find you in here.” His head lifts as he sees Cas standing in the doorway of the nursery, freshly showered and changed out of his work clothes.

“Yeah,” Dean says, smiling sheepishly. He’s been spending a lot of time in here now, there’s something so cozy and safe about it that makes him forget all his troubles, “how was work?”

“Good,” Cas says pleasantly, “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

Dean glares behind him at the rocking chair, “I haven’t resigned myself to looking like a grandpa just yet.”

Cas chuckles and sits across from him on the carpet, peering over at his homework, “Ecology, I took that last year.”

“Great,” Dean passes the worksheet over to him, “maybe you understand this crap.”

“The zones of a freshwater biome,” Cas purses his lips, “well there’s euphotic, coastal, benthic-”

“Yeah yeah Cas, tell it to the paper.”

Cas grins as he proceeds to finish Dean’s homework for him, “So? How are you feeling?”

Dean shrugs, “Good.”

Cas looks up from the homework and arches an eyebrow, “You got up to pee five times last night, and you didn’t fall asleep until three in the morning. Not to mention, you look like you’re about to collapse.”

“How the hell do _you_ know that?”

“You’re a difficult person to sleep beside.” Cas admits, “and I like to make sure you and the little one are okay in the middle of the night. So what is it? Stress?”

Dean shakes his head, “I’m fine Cas, don’t worry about it.”

Truthfully, Dean’s not exactly fine. Well, his health is probably okay, but mentally he’s a mess. His grades have begun to slip drastically in the past few weeks, he’s been so distracted and uncomfortable he hasn’t been able to concentrate. He can’t ever get any sleep because he’s either peeing or repositioning himself to get comfortable, which never works. The discontent from his peers and teachers is seriously starting to weigh on him, he’s panicking about having a baby to take care of in less than three months, and quite frankly, it’s his fault Cas was practically disowned and hasn’t seen his father in over two months.

“Dean...you’re visibly upset about something. I can tell it’s taking a toll on you.” Cas leans over and lays a hand across Dean’s knee, “you can talk to me.”

Oh, and Castiel’s signals really aren’t helping.

They still haven’t talked about the kiss, and they’ve shared a few more. It’s not an everyday thing, but sometimes in the dim lamplight beside Dean’s bed, Cas will lean over and kiss him softly. Every so often he’ll plant a chaste kiss to Dean’s forehead or belly, and sometimes they’ll just make out. But they’re still just...friends. Friends who live together, sleep together, make out, and are having a baby.

“What are we going to do?” Dean asks gruffly, picking at the straining material of his poor over-worked Hendrix t-shirt, “the baby is due in 12 weeks and school ends in 8 weeks. I’ve got another year but...you’re graduating. Where are you going to go? What are you gonna do about college? What’s going to happen with...with us?”

"Well you'll have the baby around June 20th, and have almost two months to recover before school starts again. I’m going to work full time until you finish your senior year. My friend Samandriel at the church says our baby is guaranteed a spot in the free day care center, he owes me a favor. Then when you graduate I’ll start at KSU and you can too. I can transfer from Bobby’s shop here to the one near Kansas State. By then I’ll have saved up enough for a small apartment, there’s a great apartment complex for the three of us to be close to school _and_ close to your family. I’ve already started putting together stuff to sell my Tesla, it’s in my name and I can’t afford the payments. I’m gonna split the profit from that, half for a reliable, cheap car, half towards our apartment. Plus, I looked it up and my church has another location by the school, Samandriel pulled some strings and the baby’s welcome there as well. And he says if you want, you can work part time in the day care. It doesn’t pay fantastically, but it’s a job, you’ll get to be with the baby for half your day and any paycheck is better than no paycheck. Dean, I’ve got this all planned out. Did you _really_ think I’d leave you and our baby hanging?”

“Holy shit Cas,” Dean’s breath lets out in a whoosh and he realizes he’s been holding it the whole time Cas was talking. He can see it, he can see the picture Cas is painting. The three of them, living in a cozy little apartment that’s halfway to their school halfway to Dean’s family. Cas and Dean going to school together every morning, dropping off their son, respectively going to work and returning home at night. He needs this. He can’t lose it.

“Cas promise,” Dean pleads, not caring how pathetic he looks, “please promise that we’ll get that. Promise?”

“I promise,” Cas assures him, “in a year’s time we’ll be in our apartment Dean. If I can give you only one thing it’s my guarantee that this is happening.”

Dean grabs Cas around the neck and pulls him in tight for a bone-crushing hug. He wants to hug him closer, but his distended belly puts too much distance between them. That bothers him, but at the same time it feels like their son is safe between them, so he doesn’t really mind.

“Thank you Cas,” Dean whispers into his ear, “this is all I could ever ask for.”

-

Dean fidgets uncomfortably in his seat. The baby might actually be right on his fucking bladder and he’s already used all of his bathroom passes this month. He crosses his legs -which is inevitably more uncomfortable than before- he presses his thighs together, he sits up straight and tries to focus on the lesson. He does everything except fucking pee, which is what he wants to do. He’s also asked the teacher twice if he could go to the bathroom, to which she curtly responded, no.

He texts Cas, _“Dying.”_

_“Dean, not funny.”_

_“Is it bad to hold it while you’re pregnant?”_

_“Hold what?”_

_“Your piss.”_

There’s a few minutes where Cas doesn’t respond, and then the text says _, “Sorry, in trig. Holding your pee during pregnancy can cause urinary tract infections, braxton hicks contractions and kidney problems that could start early labor. Dean, please go to the bathroom if you have to.”_

_“Can’t. Mrs. Greene’s class.”_

_“Tell her what I just told you.”_

Dean waves the crinkly old lady over, and she murmurs, “What?”

“Look I know I’ve used my bathroom passes already, but the baby is sitting on my bladder and I-”

“That is your own fault Mr. Winchester.”

“You want me to piss my pants?”

“You better not.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation, “Then let me go!”

“Be quiet and do your work.” She moves back to the front of the class, and fury burns through Dean. How dare she put his baby at risk because she’s a conservative, judgemental twat with arbitrary bathroom rules? Dean pushes his chair out, rising to his feet clumsily. 30 heads jerk towards him and Mrs. Greene says, “Sit down Mr. Winchester.”

He grabs his bag, scowling, “I have to take a leak.”

“If you walk out that door you’ll have lunch detention for the next two weeks.”

In a crazy, fantastic, unrealistic dream world, Dean whips out his dick and pisses all over her ugly fucking carpet.

In reality, he says, “Fine. See you tomorrow.” and waves at her angrily before hurrying out of the room and down the hall to the restroom.

“Detention! Starting tomorrow!” he hears her call after him.

“Whatever!”

After finishing up his business -his entire lower half probably thanking god- he checks his phone to see Cas has texted him three times since their last interaction.

“ _Dean_?  _Did you get to use the bathroom?”_

_“Is everything okay?”_

_“I’m coming to your building._ ”

Dean reads this last text as he steps out of the bathroom, and lifts his head just as Cas almost runs into him. He looks flustered, like he’s just run a mile. In his hand, he holds a bathroom pass from Mr. Harris’ trigonometry, which is in the building opposite to Dean’s. Damn, he’s fast. “Cas what the hell?”

“I came to check on you,” Cas breathes, “I’m in the ‘bathroom.’ I wanted to make sure you got to go pee. Did Mrs. Greene change her mind?”

Dean shakes his head, both touched by Cas’ reckless obsession with his health and irritated by his teacher, “No. I ended up just walking out.”

“Dean-”

“Cas I was going to wet myself, your son insists on using my bladder as his favorite hangout. First with the nausea and now the fucking peeing every ten seconds.” Dean sighs, leaning tiredly against the wall and cupping an arm under his belly to relieve himself of a little bit of the weight.

Cas watches him with a guilty expression, “I’m sorry. I wish I knew how to make it better.”

Dean sighs, “You can’t. Just part of being pregnant Cas.”

“I feel like you suffer through more discomforts than other pregnant people.”

Dean chuckles, “that’s because you’re a worry wart.”

Cas leans on the wall next to him, “You should go back to class, you might get in trouble.”

“Already got lunch detention for two weeks.”

Cas frowns, “how are you going to eat lunch?”

“Guess I’m not.”

“Dean, you have to.”

“I don’t know Cas!” Dean snaps,”I guess it’ll just be another fucking shitty thing I’ll have to deal with since you knocked me up! So why don’t you keep your annoying little mouth shut and let me be angry!”

_Why would you say that? Idiot! It’s not his fault!_

Hurt flashes across Castiel’s face. He bites his lip, nodding, “Right. Um...I should get back to class.”

He hurriedly turns away and exits the building, leaving Dean staring after him in horror.

-

Dean hasn’t bitten his nails since he was twelve. He likes that pregnancy makes them grow quickly and look nicer, same as his hair. But he’s now chewed the first three fingers on his left hand to almost nothing.

How could he have said that to Cas? It’s not like any of this is just his fault, Dean’s to blame as well. And Cas has been nothing but great to him, Cas lost his family for Dean and the baby, and Dean still couldn't help the angry words as they’d slipped out. He hadn’t been angry at Castiel, he’d been angry at Mrs. Greene and himself and the entire fucking world for thinking he’s lesser because he’s got a bump between his hips. A bump that he and Cas _both_ took part in making. He sighs, glancing at the bedside clock. Cas will be home from work in a few minutes. Should he try to apologize? Should he pretend nothing happened? Should he tell Cas to leave? After all, if he’s only going to cause the poor boy problems, maybe Cas _should_ leave.

Dean’s fucked everything up.

His stomach growls, and he sighs again, once more defeated by the hunger that pregnancy infringes upon him. He climbs out of bed and crosses the hall into the kitchen. He hopes nobody walks in, his jade eyes are red and puffy, still slightly moist with the angry tears he’d shed upon entering his room. He rummages through the fridge and eventually decides on a huge fucking bowl of ice cream, because he god damn deserves it. He takes the rocky road back into his bedroom, digs a spoon into it and stuffs his face. About thirty minutes into his depressing downward spiral into a sugar coma, the phone rings.

He sets the ice cream on his nightstand and picks up his cell, “Hello?”

“Dean!”

“Ellen, what’s wrong?”

“I’m coming home to pick you up right now, Castiel is in the hospital!”

“ _What?_ ”

“Something happened at the garage- we don’t know all the details yet.”

_Oh god oh god Cas is dead. Cas is dead oh god oh god-_

“Dean?”

“I’ll be ready.” He hangs up and throws his jacket over his shoulders, stuffing his feet into his boots and moving as fast as he can towards the door.


	6. Leave Yourself Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy...good luck with this chapter! 
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts, I'm so curious how you will react!

“Dean you should get home and get some sleep.” Bobby says as he and Dean slouch dejectedly in the waiting room of the hospital. Jo and Sam are at home, anxiously awaiting word on Cas’ condition. Apparently when they’d brought Cas in from the ambulance, he’d been half-out of it with pain, but he was asking for Ellen. She’s behind the swinging doors with him now, and Dean is out here. Hating himself for snarling rude things at Cas, hating himself for ruining Cas’ life, hating himself for not being what Cas deserves.

“I’m fine,” Dean sighs, rubbing a hand over his stomach absently, “what exactly happened at the garage Bobby?”

“I heard a scream and we rushed in and found Cas under the car. My guess is, the jack gave out or had something loose while Cas was down there, or maybe he didn’t jack it up correctly. We managed to get a working jack and lift the car within a few minutes, but his leg was all kinds of bent and bruised…” Bobby swallows hard, and upon seeing the expression on Dean’s face, says, “I wouldn't worry Dean. I’m sure it’s just a broken leg.”

 _He mishandled the jack. He was distracted. It’s my fault_.

Dean nods vacantly, gnawing on his lower lip so hard that he tastes blood.

\- He isn’t sure how long they wait before there’s news. He’s half asleep, neck bent at a severely uncomfortable angle and back sore as hell from the plush, stiff lobby chair. But he instantly jerks up when the swinging doors open and a Dr. Lafitte steps in.

“Are you Dean?”

Dean carefully gets to his feet, steadying himself and saying, “Yes.”

“He’s asking for you.”

Dean briskly follows the blue-eyed, southern man down a long corridor, “is he okay? What’s happening?”

“Leg’s broken in a few places. Luckily, they’re clean breaks, so they’re gonna heal just fine. His coworkers got him out fast enough that there’s no real crush injury. My bet is, he’ll be laid up for a few weeks, then we’ll get him a boot and some crutches.”

“So he’s not going to die?”

Dr. Lafitte quirks an eyebrow up in concern, “Maybe you need some rest.” he gestures to Dean’s obviously swollen gut, “you’re no good to him if you’re panicking.”

“I’m fine. Has anyone called his dad?”

“We’ve tried him a few times but there’s been no reply. We figure he’s got a service or something tonight, since it’s Thursday. He’s a pastor right?”

“Technically.”

Lafitte seems interested by this response, but he ignores it and they stop in front of a door, “Your mom’s in there with him. She’s been takin’ good care of him, and I don’t recommend letting her leave just yet. I get the sense he really needs a motherly figure right now, I was against him even asking for you to come in.”

Dean swallows. If the doctor is trying to say Dean’s presence is bad for Cas, he’s pretty on the money.

“Now don’t freak out, he looks worse than he is.” Lafitte pushes the door open, and Dean eagerly steps in.

And boy he wasn’t joking, Cas looks like Hell. There’s an IV hooked up to his inner elbow, feeding him liquid through his bloodstream. His face is sickly and pale, with a seemingly constant sheen of sweat on his forehead and bangs. His lips are dry and slack, like he’s too exhausted to hold his mouth shut. His right leg is propped up and wrapped in a thick cast all the way up to the knee. If Dean weren’t so fucking freaked out, he’d admire the brilliant shape of his thighs exposed in the hospital gown. His eyes are open, but they’re hazy and exhausted. Ellen is leaning over the bed beside him, stroking his hair and murmuring sweet nothings like she’d done to Dean when he’d gotten his appendix out. He seems to lean into the touch, almost as if he craves the attention of a parent. Of course he does. Not like he’s got any good ones. Maybe Lafitte is right; maybe Dean shouldn’t be here. Maybe Cas needs time away from Dean, to heal and-

“Dean?” There’s something so vulnerable and weak about his soft croaking voice that makes Dean unable to turn away.

Dean slowly crosses the room, trying to ignore the painful hammering of his heart against his chest cavity, “Cas.” he murmurs.

“We gave him some pain meds,” Dr. Lafitte mutters quietly, “he’s a little out of it. I’m gonna head out, buzz me if you need anything.”

Dean barely even notices his exit. He can’t stop staring at Cas. He glances at Ellen, “is he okay?”

She purses her lips, not stopping her rhythmic stroking of his hair. Dean knows how soothing that touch is, he wants her to do it for Cas until he grows tired of it, “He’s really shaken up and in pain, but he should be okay. Hasn’t anybody called his dad yet?”

“They’ve tried, he’s not answering.” She looks back at his face, sighing quietly, “you poor thing.”

He smiles up at her, loopy like he’d taken prescription pills in all the wrong ways. She smiles back, but it’s a melancholy expression. Pitied. Sorrowful. This is all Dean’s fault. If it wasn’t for him and the baby, Cas wouldn’t have even been at the garage. He’d be at home, studying and praying and graduating high school to become a fucking doctor or some shit. Dean understands why Cas was so furious when he first found out about the pregnancy; he expected all of this, didn’t he? He knew his life would be over if he dared support Dean. Well he was right. Dean’s fucked up his entire life.

“He was crying,” she murmured, eyes locked on Cas’ face as if she’s seen a whole new side of him, “when I came in during the x-ray he was in so much pain, but that’s not why he was crying. He told me you didn’t want him anymore.” she bites her lower lip, her fingers stilling on his forehead. He wrinkles his nose in complaint, and she continues smoothing out his hair, “he was crying and he said ‘ _I keep messing up_.’”

Cas, suddenly coherent enough to speak, takes the reigns, “keep messin things up Dean,” he whispers, reaching his hand out. Dean takes it, his grip is weak, “...did somethin wrong with the car...disappointed my dad...my family...God...keep screwing up.”

“No,” Dean insists, taking Cas’ damp, heated face in his hands, “no Cas you haven’t done anything wrong. Cas I’m so lucky to have you, you have no idea.”

He shakes his head and yawns tiredly, “yeah you’re right, m’tired Dean, it hurts.”

“Alright Cas...get some sleep okay?”

His grip on Dean’s hand tightens, “Stay?”

“What?”

“Please stay, I want you to stay. Please don't leave me alone.”

“Yes Cas of course,” Dean promises, planting a chaste kiss on his moist forehead, “I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.” His grip loosens and he nods, eyes drifting closed tiredly. Dean watches him slowly succumb to exhaustion as if he’s watching a caterpillar become a cocoon.

-

“Dean I know you promised Cas you’d stay, but you really need to get home and sleep.” Ellen insists, crossing her arms as she stares down at Dean, who’s sitting criss-cross on the small futon beside Cas’ bed.

“Ellen, I’m not leaving. I can sleep here.”

“Honey you’re almost seven months pregnant, this futon is going to kill your back.”

“He’s worth it.”

“Dean-”

“Ellen, he asked me to stay. I owe him this, at the very least.”

“You know if he wasn’t hopped up on happy pills he’d order you to go home and sleep.” she counters logically.

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t mean it.”

She throws her hands up in exasperation, “It’s good that you want to take care of him, but you need to take care of you and the baby first.”

“We’re doing fine.”

“You are so stubborn.”

“Get it from my Mom.”

She sighs, her expression softening at this. She nods a few times, “Alright hon. Bobby and I need to get home to your brother and sister, want me to bring you back some stuff?”

“My pillow? And some decent food maybe?”

“You got it. Supply run, then we’ll be back here first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks Ellen.”

“Love you Dean.”

“Love you too.”

-

Two hours later, the clock pushing 3 AM, Dean settles on his side on the futon with his pillow. It’s uncomfortable as all hell, and his back is already hurting, but like he told his mom, Cas is more than worth it. There’s no way he’s falling asleep like this. He wishes he could drink coffee, but none of that while he’s pregnant. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t sleep though, because at exactly 3:30 the door opens.

Dean jerks into a sitting position as soon as he sees the person who enters is not Dr. Lafitte. The man is tall and broad shouldered with dark brown hair that curls up at his neck. There are a few streaks of gray in it that lead down into his clean cut sideburns. His jaw is square but angular, matching up with strong broad lips. His eyes are intense cobalt blue that cut through his dark lashes starkly. He’s wearing a black overcoat with a little white collar around his neck.

Oh fuck.

“You must be Dean.”

Oh shit.

“My name is Jeremiah Novak.”

Holy fucking Christ.

“I’m Castiel’s father.”

Dean has envisioned meeting Castiel’s father a thousand times. He’s imagined screaming at the surprisingly attractive older man with a plethora of obscenities, cursing his name and calling him a coward and a pathetic excuse for a father. He’s seen himself kicking him in the crotch and laughing.

Now, sitting before the 6’4 man, all that comes out is a meek, “Hi.”

Castiel is a fucking carbon copy of his father, just younger and shorter. Who the hell knew sons and fathers could look so much alike? And who knew Pastor Novak is so...intimidating?

“Do you mind if I ask why you’re sleeping in my son’s hospital room?”

“H-he asked me to stay.”

“Did he?”

“Well, seeing as he’s been sleeping in _my_ room for the past two months, I figured one night in his couldn’t hurt.”

The pastor’s eyes darken, and for some reason Dean’s blood turns cold. He needs to start controlling his fucking mouth.

“What happened to his leg?”

“He was at work-”

“Work?”

“He has a job at my father’s mechanics garage.”

“Oh great,” the pastor scoffs, “working beneath grease-trap disasters and earning minimum wage for doing so.”

“Don’t you _talk_ for a living?”

“I’d advise you to watch your mouth in the presence of a holy man.”

“Uh...right. Anyway, something happened with the jack while he was under the car. I guess the front bumper came down on his leg and broke it in a few places.”

The pastor crosses his arms and quirks an eyebrow up, “How is he doing?”

“Should be bedridden for a few weeks. Then he’ll be okay with a boot and a crutch.”

The pastor’s eyes quickly cut to Dean’s face, “Who is paying for his medical treatment?”

Dean struggles to his feet, ignoring the disdainful look Jeremiah gives him as his rounded belly becomes more prominent, “His family.”

“So I’m just supposed to-”

“ _You’re_ not his family.”

“How dare you? First you steal my son away with that bastard child of yours-”

“Hey watch your fucking mouth,” Dean snaps, fed up with his pompous attitude, “this is your grandkid, and he’s just as much Cas’ as mine. And nobody stole him. He chose to be there for me, and you chose to kick him to the curb.”

“You-you, how dare you?”

“Can’t you say anything else?”

“What’s going on? Dad?”

Both Jeremiah and Dean whip their heads sideways as Cas sits up in bed and winces, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. His gaze passes between Dean and his father, standing a few feet away, shoulders back, standoffish in every form of the word. “Dean why are you still here?” Cas manages, an inch of hurt still on his expression.

The pastor gives Dean a smug look, but Dean says, “You asked me to stay, when you were on the painkillers.”

“Oh...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that of you. You really should be at home getting some sleep.”

“Castiel?” Jeremiah demands, waving his hands, “I’m here.”

Cas’ eyes narrow, “Oh wow Dad, you _finally_ showed up. What? Should I give you a medal?”

“Castiel Jonah Novak! I am your father and you will treat me with respect-”

“No.” Cas growls, although the exertion is clearly hurting him, “I don’t fucking respect you. You abandoned me when I needed you most! What kind of father does that? You know who’s been there for me? Dean’s father. He got me a job, a roof over my head, he’s cared for me and fed me. You know who else is there for me? Dean’s mom. And his sister. And his brother, and him and our baby! _They_ are my family you traditionalistic douchebag.”

Jeremiah’s jaw clenches visibly, something Dean notices is scarily similar to a habit of Cas’, “You’re making a mistake. Choose Castiel, your father and siblings, or the slut with the bastard child.”

Cas freezes, “what did you just say?”

“You and I both know it’s true. I’ve raised you better. This boy is nothing but a fleck of dirt in your eye, and that baby is a sin.”

Cas’ hands clench at his sides, and his next words are spoken very carefully, “ _you are so lucky_.”

“What?”

“You are so _fucking lucky_ that I’m hurt. Or I swear to god you fucking prick, I’d knock your _teeth out_!”

“Castiel!”

“You don’t get to say those things! I love that baby more than anything! That baby saved me from my life! That baby made me realize what’s important, hard work and love. Two things you never gave me! That baby is not even born yet and I’d take a bullet for him rather than you on any occasion! And Dean? Dean is a better man than you could ever dream of being. Dean deals with people like you everyday all because he’s carrying our baby, and you or I could never be that strong! Dean is caring and smart and important and he is everything you are not, and I love him just as much as our baby. So, unless you’re going to tell me you’ve changed your mind about this and accept our family, get the fuck out.”

Were Dean’s eyes this wet before Cas started talking? Is he crying? Yep. He’s crying, oh man, he’s bawling.

Jeremiah’s entire upper half trembles, “You are a disappointment, and a mistake!”

“Whoa, big news everybody, someone pissed of the pastor! Shocker!”

“I never wish to see you again!”

“Thank God.”

The angry man whirls on his heel, snarls at the weeping Dean, “you are _poison_!” and swiftly leaves the room.

Cas turns to Dean, apologetic, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Cas don’t worry about it, anything sets me off these days.” Dean wipes under his eyes and approaches the bedside, “I have so many things I want to say to you.”

“You’re sorry for yelling at me?”

“God, yes Cas I didn’t mean it-”

“Please tell me you haven’t been beating yourself up over this.”

“Um I-”

“Dean you’re nearly seven months pregnant, how am I supposed to blame you for getting a little hormonal? Especially with all the stress you and little peanut are under.” he smiles softly and reaches his hand out to affectionately rub Dean’s belly, “I left quickly so I didn’t upset you any more.”

“So...you didn’t get into the accident because of me?”

“God Dean of course not! It was an accident, they happen. How do you manage to blame yourself for every little thing?”

“You should be sleeping. That was too much for you.”

“If anything I’m worried about you,” Cas bites his lip, “those things he said...you know they aren’t true right? He’s backwards Dean.”

Dean settles his hand over Cas’ where it rests on his stomach, “Did you….did you mean what you said?”

“Yes.” Cas says immediately with conviction, “I love this baby more than anything, your family has taught me so much. And you…” he adds quietly, “I love you Dean.”

“You love me or you’re _in_ love with me?”

“I’m not sure, a little of both?” Dean sighs and laughs a little, “I love you too, a little bit of both.”

“Good,” Cas smiles slightly, and then frowns, “you should get home.”

“Like I’m gonna leave you here alone.”

“Dean, I’ll be fine. This much stress and lack of sleep isn’t good for you or the baby.”

“Cas we’re okay. Just worry about you, alright?”

He pouts, “Let me sleep on the futon.”

“Oh not a chance in Hell.”

Cas crosses his arms grumpily, “Then sleep up here with me.”

Dean narrows his eyes at the slender twin bed, and then glances down at his...very large body, “I’m gonna pass.”

“Dean there’s enough room.”

“There ain’t enough room in a damn king sized bed for me right now.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Right, sure, but a lot bigger than this bed is made for.”

“Obese people lay in them.”

“But they don’t have broken legs.”

“You won’t hurt me Dean, I’m still off my ass on painkillers.”

Dean rubs his eyes, “Cas, sleep.”

“Not until you get in bed with me.”

Dean sighs in exasperation, “and Ellen says _I’m_ stubborn.”

Cas scoots over to the edge of the bed -protected of course by the railing- and pats the miniscule space next to him. Dean hesitates, then slowly begins to climb on. The bed squeaks and he instantly retreats, “uh-huh.”

“Dean it did that when I moved, just get on.”

He sighs again, “Cas if it breaks-”

“It won’t.”

Biting his lip so hard that he once again tastes blood, Dean manages to load himself on to the bed. He turns on his side to face Cas, who can’t move from his position on his back. Cas scooches down and drapes the covers over Dean as well, turning off his bedside lamp.

“See? Not so bad.”

“I am terrified right now.”

“Nonsense,” Cas breathes, eyes still hazy from both pain and morphine, but his smile genuine, “we’re okay.”

“Guess so.”

“You can trust me.”

Dean smiles, looking up at Cas’ somehow still handsome face, “Guess so.”

-


	7. Together with Tarantino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait and how short this chapter is! Been super busy with school and completing a few other fics I had running. But, this is my main focus now! <3
> 
> Enjoy the fluff! :D

Castiel’s bed rest is the most stressful time of Dean’s life. So, okay, he doesn’t mind taking care of Cas. He doesn’t mind getting up to help him take a leak or hovering outside the shower to be sure he’s not hurting himself, or even walking extra after school to get work from his teachers. That stuff is all okay. But the _worry_ is the worst part. Cas looks so fragile. Every time he moves it’s evident on his face that it causes him pain. When he accidentally bumps his cast against the footboard of Dean’s bed and then can’t eat for two hours because he feels nauseated with pain, is one of the moments Dean finds difficult. When he takes his pain medicine in shaking hands and tries to look tough, but it’s clear he can’t wait for them to take effect. That's not so easy. This goes on for about two weeks, and then he’s allowed the boot and crutches. And oh boy, if that isn’t more stressful. He’s reckless. He walks too fast. He tries to do too much. He insists he can make it up the stairs by himself. He swears he can carry his own backpack. He tells Dean it’s okay, to worry about himself, but Dean can’t stop being concerned.

“Cas, slow down.” Dean insists as Cas enters their room.

Cas quirks an eyebrow up, “This from the 7 month pregnant guy who’s spent the past few weeks on his feet?”

“Your health is important to me,” Dean argues, “here let me help you-”

“Dean if you move off the bed I’m going to throw my crutch at you.”

Dean rolls his eyes but watches Cas like a hawk as he slowly lowers himself to the small sofa opposite Dean’s bed, “You’d never hit me.”

“I know. Jeez Dean, is it this annoying when I hover over you?”

“And then some.”

“I sincerely apologize.”

-

“So Dean, we need to come up with a birth plan.”

“What?” Charlie laughs, “You’re 29 weeks pregnant, the time is coming. We need to put together a birth plan.”

“Uh…” Dean scratches behind his neck nervously, wishing he wasn’t all alone at this appointment, “do we have to?”

“No but Dean, you want to be prepared.”

He sighs heavily, sitting up a little and pulling his shirt down over his distended belly, “Alright.”

“Great. So will you be delivering here at this hospital or an alternative birth center?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a place where you can have a natural vaginal birth. Food and drinks as well as tubs and other home-like things are provided and it’s generally cheaper than a hospital. However, you can’t have any pain medicine, the workers are usually midwives instead of obstetricians, and should there be an emergency...it might take a few minutes you don’t have to get to a hospital.”

Dean hesitates, the birth center sounds nice, but he likes his pain meds. Besides, what if something goes wrong? “I think I’ll stick with the hospital.”

“Alright...ok. So will you be wanting an epidural?”

“Is that the shot that makes it hurt less?”

“It numbs your lower regions, you’ll still be able to feel the pressure. It’s not always completely effective in pain reduction, and can lead to lethargy that makes it difficult to push. However, when it does work perfectly it’s been said to make delivery so much easier.”

“There are so many options,” Dean manages, overwhelmed.

“It can be a lot, especially for a teenager. You don’t have to decide right this second hon, just giving you some choices.”

He nods, “Maybe I’ll wait to choose that one.”

“Alright that’s perfectly fine. You seem a little stressed out, are you okay?”

Dean sighs, nodding, “I think it’s all just setting in that he’ll be here in a few weeks.” Dean affectionately pats his belly, smiling, “I’m happy but I’m also nervous as hell.”

Charlie smiles, “My wife and I have three of our own. If it makes you feel any better, everyone’s scared at first.”

Dean nods half-heartedly, “It does.” he lies, “thank you.”

-

Exhausted, insomniatic and still freaking out over the birth of the baby, Dean struggles out of bed without waking Cas. He makes his way into the kitchen, scratching his stomach absently as he digs through the fridge for something to relax him. He settles on chicken sausage and Mac N’ Cheese. It doesn’t take long to cook, and when it’s done he takes the food and a glass of apple juice into the living room, clicking on the TV and putting in his battered Pulp Fiction DVD. He’s halfway through his sausage and nearly finished with the macaroni by the time Mia and Vincent are disagreeing over the 5$ shake. He chuckles to himself at the familiar line, “ _A five dollar shake? What, do you put Bourbon in it?_ ”

“I don’t think alcohol would mix well with dairy.”

Dean startles a little, spinning around to see Cas standing behind the couch, tilting his head curiously at the movie. He’s upgraded from using crutches to walking with just his boot, making things easier on himself.

“It’s...you’d have to watch the whole scene.”

“Oh.”

Dean hesitates, “Do you want to watch it?”

“You seem like you’re enjoying your alone time. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you seemed a little off after your appointment today.”

“No Cas really it’s fine, we could use some company.”

As always, when Dean includes the baby, Cas is unable to resist. He smiles a little, and moves around the couch to sit beside Dean, “You should be sleeping.” he reminds him.

Dean sighs, restarting the movie and glancing at Cas’ concerned expression, “Can’t sleep.” he admits.

Cas arches an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Dean takes a bite of sausage, “No reason.”

“Dean…”

“Hey it’s starting.”

Cas sighs softly, but looks away from Dean’s face to the movie. Once again, about halfway through, he speaks, “Oh I get it.”

Dean laughs, “Yeah Cas.”

“This movie is...disturbing.”

Dean snorts, “We should watch _Reservoir Dogs_. Talk about disturbing.”

Cas frowns a little, “Are you going to be letting Mason watch these movies?”

Dean turns to Cas completely, “What?”

“I said, are you going to let- _oh,_ ” Cas seems to realize what he’s said and his eyes widen.

“Uh..Cas? Who’s Mason?”

“Um, nobody nevermind.”

“Cas.”

Face flushed red, Cas says quietly, “Just a name I’ve been thinking about. That’s all.”

“You’ve been calling the baby Mason in your head?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Cas shut up,” Dean rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, “I like that. Mason. Mason Winchester.”

“It has a nice ring to it, I think.” Cas admits.

“Well I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve had no idea what to call him.” Dean rubs his tummy soothingly, “Having a name...makes this all seem more real.”

“Are you nervous?”

Dean laughs bitterly, “Nervous? I’m freaking out. I can’t sleep, I can’t focus...how are we going to take care of a baby? I’m only sixteen...I’ve never even held a baby before. I’m going to be such a shitty dad.”

“No.” Cas shakes his head surely, “Dean, how could you think that?”

“It’s just...maybe your dad was right.” Dean huffs, biting his lip and picking at the cotton of his stretched out pajama shirt, “Maybe I really am no good-”

“ _No_.” Castiel repeats vehemently, “Absolutely not. My father is an idiot and a monster. Dean you’re going to be an amazing parent.”

“How?” he demands, “everyone’s against me. Everyone thinks this is a shit idea. My teachers hate me. My friends all hate me, everyone who sees me in public can’t stop staring because of what an idiot I am! Why is your dad any different? How am I supposed to believe you Cas?”

“Because this is my baby too,” Cas leans over and takes Dean’s hands, “this is our baby. Who the fuck cares about a bunch of insensitive ignorant douchebags? I mean this isn’t ideal but Dean, we’re going to make it through this stronger than ever. I promise. You and me and little Mason are going to have the best family, and all those angry, hateful people will be jealous of how happy we are. Besides Dean, I’ve seen how you are with him, and he’s not even born. You talk to him and your hands are always covering your stomach, you eat right even though you don’t like to, you take your vitamins and gain weight and follow all your doctor’s orders. Hell, you ditched class so you could pee because its’ unhealthy for the baby to hold it. You’re already a caring parent. You put him first and you love him Dean.”

Dean laughs nervously, “Really?” 

Cas smiles encouragingly, “Absolutely, and you never needed me to tell you that.”

Dean leans in a little closer, so their lips are only inches apart, “You know what else you could do for me?”

Cas’ gaze casts over Dean’s and his lips pull up a little, “I think I may have an idea.”

Their lips collide moments later. Dean’s breath probably smells and tastes like a mixture of chicken sausage and macaroni, but Cas doesn’t seem to care. His arms wrap around Dean protectively, and one of his thumbs slowly strokes up and down Dean’s side, which feels extremely nice and very comforting. The baby... _Mason_ begins to move around, getting a few good punches into Dean’s side, right where Cas’ hand is. Cas smiles through the kiss, which only makes Dean want more of him.

“Oh gross!”

Both boys break away and turn as Sam and Jo stand behind the couch, staring in disdain. They’re both pajama-clad with bowls of popcorn and soda tucked to their chests, looking on to the makeout session in disgust.

“And you wonder how he got knocked up in the first place,” Jo rolls her eyes and nudges Cas, “Scoot over peg-leg.”

Cas chuckles, scooching over so he and Dean are smushed against each other on the couch, making room for Sam and Jo to climb up.

“Mood killers.” Dean grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms over his belly and huffing out his breath childishly.

Cas laughs and lets Dean lean against his chest, circling an arm around his shoulders, “Mason will probably be twice as bad.”

“Mason huh?” Sam inquires, a little bit faster with the uptake than Dean, “is that the baby’s name?”

Dean nods, “Pretty sure.”

He considers this, then nods, “I like that. Mason Winchester?”

“Yeah.”

“Well what about a middle name?” Jo demands, “He’s got to have a middle name.”

Dean purses his lips as he runs a hand tenderly over the swell of his belly, where Mason is trying to be an olympic athlete. He knows Cas can feel it too, which is making the blue-eyed boy grin like the cheshire cat.

“What about Johanna?” Jo waggles her eyebrows teasingly.

Cas purses his lips, “Mason Johanna Winchester?”

“Don’t you dare try to give my son a girl’s middle name.” Dean warns, turning to Sam, “What do you think?”

“What about John?”

Dean’s shoulders tense as he and his brother eye one another. They don’t speak much about their birth parents -who’d both passed away in a car accident when Dean was only four- but when they do it’s...awkward.

“Dean?” Cas asks, frowning in confusion.

Dean gnaws on his lower lip, “Maybe, Sam.”

Sam nods once, getting the message, but pushing it anyway, “I just think it’d be nice. To honor him.”

“Honor who?”

“Uh, John was our...birth father’s name.” Dean says tentatively, “he passed away when I was just a kid.” Cas hesitates, unsure of his next words. Dean makes it easier for him, “Don’t worry Cas, he wasn’t...the nicest guy on the planet. I’d much rather be with my parents now. He wouldn’t have…” Dean’s fingers go still at the top of his belly, “he wouldn’t have been so supportive of me and Mason.”

Cas’ shoulders stiffen, and he says carefully, “Oh. I understand. Maybe we should...consider this thoroughly.”

Dean nods, “I’m actually getting tired.”

“I’m sorry Dean,” Sam says immediately, “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, Sammy please it’s fine. I’m gonna think about it, I may want to use John as the middle name. Cas? Comin’ to bed?”

Cas nods and helps Dean to his feet -which is an ordeal, seeing as Dean can hardly keep his balance and Cas has only one good leg. They say goodnight to Dean’s siblings and return to their bedroom.

“So are you really okay?” Cas asks as he tenderly spoons up behind Dean and cups his hands under his rounded stomach.

Dean nods, “Yeah.” he replies with a yawn, “but I don’t know if I want Mason to have John as his namesake.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want Dean.” Cas assures him softly, pressing a warm kiss to his neck, “this is your baby, no one elses. He’s yours.”

“Mmm,” Dean hums quietly, taking Cas’ hand and pressing it against the spot where Mason’s movement is more active, “Ours Cas. He’s _our_ baby.”

Cas smiles, "Of course."

"Oh and by the way, Mason is  _never_ allowed to watch my movies."

"That's probably a good thing."


	8. All Animals Are Equal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. Good luck with this chapter it made me EMOTIONAL. You poor people I am dragging you all over the earth with this friggen fic. Poor Dean too omg I'm so mean to him. 
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> (baby Mason will be on his way soon! <3)

So, Cas is great. He’s supportive and smart and caring and protective and he obviously cares about Dean and the baby.

But one thing he’s not good about, is music.

Dean likes a lot of music. He’ll listen to everything from Alice In Chains to The Dresdon Dolls, but he does _not_ tolerate The Fray in his goddamn house. And if Cas plays “ _Never Say Never_ ” one more time, Dean’s going to fucking explode.

“Cas.” Dean says, plucking out one of Castiel’s headphones, “I can hear your music, and it’s shit.”

Cas frowns, glancing down at his ipod with an uncomprehending expression, “You don’t like The Fray?”

Dean can’t believe he chose _this_ guy to have a baby with. What the hell was he thinking?

He sighs, “We should go shopping. Get you some new music.”

Cas pouts, “Dean my music is fine.”

Dean arches an eyebrow, “I am 31 weeks pregnant and very hormonal, I’d recommend not pissing me off. C’mon, get up. Your leg is healed and your ears are next.”

Huffing and puffing, Cas rises to his feet and offers a helpful hand out to Dean, who sheepishly accepts it. Moving around nowadays is hard enough that he’s given up on being prideful. Last week, he’d almost pissed the bed, just barely making it to the bathroom in time to empty his poor bladder. He figures if Cas can tolerate that, he probably doesn’t mind helping Dean stand every once in a while.

They opt to take the Impala, since Cas has just sold his Tesla and is still looking for a cheap, reliable car. Cas offers to drive, but Dean sends him a glare that could cool a stove top, which makes him back off. Granted, he has to move the driver’s seat back a few inches in order to fit between the wheel and the seat, but he’s still a perfectly capable driver. And he won’t go 2 friggen miles an hour. The bookstore is a few miles outside of town, so the drive is lengthy. Dean fills the silence with one of his dad’s old cassette tapes; Bobby’s always had a taste for metal. He hums and bobs his head along to Zeppelin while Cas looks at the stereo like it’s a foreign creature. Soon enough, they arrive at the half-priced bookstore that also specializes in having a badass music selection. Cas and Dean exit -Dean pridefully managing to do so without any help- and head into the store. As they enter, Cas slips his hand into Dean’s, which neither of them mention.

“Alright,” Dean tugs him over to the music section, “we’ll start you off easy. Heard of Nirvana?”

“Yes I’ve heard of Nirvana Dean.”

“Great. We’re getting _In Utero_ ,” Dean pats his belly pleasantly, “Relevant. And hmm...okay, Meat Puppets?”

“Sounds gross.”

Dean sighs, “We’ll ease you into them.”

“Hey, there’s The Beatles. I like them.”

Dean nods contemplatively, “Get the remastered version, it’s got a lot of their songs.”

“Cool.” Cas picks up the CD and turns to Dean, “What now?”

“Well you looked pretty corkscrewed by Led Zeppelin, so I’m gonna get some of that. Why don’t you look for some Metallica and we’ll meet back here in like ten minutes?”

Cas looks hesitant to leave Dean alone, but he nods, “Alright. Um, be careful?”

Dean rolls his eyes and gives Cas a thumbs-up as he heads off to find some Zeppelin. He still thinks it’s sweet that Cas is so overprotective, but he’ll be relieved when he redirects that worrisome attention to the baby, rather than Dean. He finally finds some Zeppelin in a pathetic excuse for a music shelf in the back of the store. It’s dusty, and breathing is hard lately anyway, so it’s a little tedious searching through the racks of music for the right album. He selects the album he wants, coughing loudly at the influx of dust in his lungs. He presses a hand flat against his belly as if he can hear Mason’s assurance that the dust hasn’t harmed him. Mason wriggles around in the cramped space of Dean’s tummy, and he decides his son is doing okay. Pleased, he continues thumbing through the music, hoping to find something else good. He removes another album, which causes more dust to pool up around him. Naturally, because he’s Dean, he begins coughing again. He can’t stop, and for a moment, he’s kind of afraid he’s going to choke to death on this fucking bookstore dust. He places his palm against his mouth in an attempt to stifle the coughs, but immediately pulls it away when he feels something wet against his skin.

His hand is stained with blood.

Did he just- holy fuck he just coughed up blood.

He drops the album, sucking in a deep breath and staring down at his shaking, bloody hand. He tries to keep calm, because freaking out in this situation is probably the worst thing he can do, right? Except he doesn’t know what the hell is _wrong_.

“Dean? Are you back here? I couldn’t find any Metallica but I saw- hey, are you okay? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Cas turns and enters the dusty corner, waving his hand and wrinkling his nose, “You shouldn’t be inhaling this dust. C’mon, let’s buy this.”

Dean is silent, unable to speak for fear that more blood will come out of his body. Slowly, as if in a dream, he lifts his bloodied palm up for Cas to see.

Cas’ brows pull down in confusion, “What?” he squints a little, then his eyes widen, “Wait-what? What is that? Are you bleeding?”

“I coughed and it-” he swallows, struggling to breathe through both his terror and the dusty air.

Castiel’s cerulean eyes are probably going to pop out of his head soon, but he takes a deep breath, “Alright. Let’s get back to the car. We’ll get you to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Dean squeaks as Cas tosses the CD’s in his hands against a shelf and curls his arm around Dean, removing his jacket and wiping Dean’s hand clean with it. Cas leads him out to the car, carefully helping him into the passenger seat, then he gets behind the wheel. His hands are rigid on the steering wheel.

“Cas?” Dean whimpers halfway through the drive, hugging his arms around his swollen stomach fearfully, “what do you think it is?”

Dean can see that Cas is struggling to keep calm, “It could be a number of things Dean. I…” he bites his lip, glances at Dean, and then looks back at the road before saying, “I only took two health classes but, coughing up blood can be a sign of a pulmonary embolism.”

Dean stares at him, “that-that sounds bad.”

“It’s a blood clot in the lungs. Have you had trouble breathing lately?”

Oh god.

Oh Jesus.

_A blood clot in the lungs?_

“It’s not common in pregnancy,” Cas rambles on, not even really noticing that Dean isn’t paying an ounce of attention. He seems to speak in facts when he’s under distress, “affects less than 1% of pregnancies, and has an even smaller mortality rate. This is probably something minor, statistically I mean.”

And _since when_ have Dean and Cas matched statistics?

Dean has had trouble breathing lately. He’d assumed it was just pregnancy wearing on him, after all, he’s in his third trimester of pregnancy and there’s a couple pounds of baby pushing against his lungs. He’d heard that was normal. What if it’s his fault this happened? What if it turned into something worse because he brushed it off?

Oh god.

“Dean stop freaking out,” Cas orders in a strained voice, “the more upset you are the worse this is.”

And how in god’s name is Dean supposed to be calm?

“Don’t give me that look, I’m serious.”

Why is Cas, who flips shit when Dean _brushes his teeth_ alone, being so relaxed? Why isn’t he reduced to a puddle of tears and pleas for survival? Since when is he so collected?

Dean hadn’t realized he’d asked that last question aloud, until Cas replies, “This is serious Dean, I don’t have time to be a child.”

Dean stares at him, struck by the response. Cas is 17, he _is_ a child.

“We’re here.” Cas climbs out of the car and crosses over to the passenger side, carefully helping Dean out. They hustle in silence into the emergency room, where Castiel demands immediate care in a hushed voice. He briefly explains the situation to the woman behind the counter, who nods in understanding at the subdued, yet urgent tone in his voice.

They make Cas stay in the waiting room, which is kind of the worst part.

Dean’s all alone. They do a chest x-ray, which thankfully comes out clean. They give him an ultrasound, which shows everything is doing well. They do a few more particularly invasive and uncomfortable exams, which luckily all end up being fine. The cause of his bloody coughing is determined after he’s placed in a hospital bed, all alone. There’s a fetal monitor pinching his belly, the bed is uncomfortable as hell, and he’s fucking scared out of his mind. An unfamiliar Doctor Robinson who says she’s an OB for the hospital enters the room, which doesn’t help his anxiety.

“Well Dean, it seems like we’ve found out the cause of your bloody-cough. You mentioned that you had pretty severe morning sickness every day for the first four or five months of your pregnancy. What we’re assuming, is all the vomiting may have torn the lining on your throat slightly. It’s probably since healed itself up, but the violent coughing could’ve re-torn it. And such distress on your throat can make it bleed.”

Dean takes a deep breath and rests his hands on his stomach, “So...are we going to be okay?”

She smiles at this, “You should be fine. The throat will most likely heal up on it’s own if you give it a few days of rest. And on another note, you have been having trouble sleeping lately?”

“How’d you know?”

“You look beat kid. That can sometimes happen when you’re pregnant, and especially so young. It’s nothing to worry over, but your blood pressure is also a little high. We’re going to keep you overnight just to make sure everything is okay. But right now, there’s nothing to be concerned about. You did the right thing, coming to the hospital though.”

Dean half-smiles, “Wasn’t really my idea, the baby’s dad is a little bit of a worrier.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he is. Now, we called your family when you got here, which was a little over an hour and a half ago. Because this isn’t something severe, I’m going to allow them to visit with you, but make sure you stay relaxed. And, I’m going to have to ask them to leave after visiting hours, which is in about ten minutes.”

Dean nods in understanding, “Yeah, okay. Thanks doc.”

She nods with a smile, “I’ll have them come in.” and she’s gone.

Dean’s left alone for a few minutes, and then Ellen and Bobby enter. He’s grease-stained and wearing the _Singer Auto_ uniform, and she looks absolutely panicked. When they see his stomach all hooked up to the fetal monitor, the reaction is catastrophic.

“Oh my!” Ellen croons, approaching Dean’s side quickly, “What’s this? Is he okay? Cas said you were coughing up blood and they wouldn’t tell us anything!”

“We’re fine,” Dean assures her, “it wasn’t anything serious, I just coughed really hard and it tore the lining of my throat. She said it would’ve fixed itself but, Cas and I were both kinda freaked out. They want to keep me overnight, just for observation. Speaking of Cas, where is he?”

“Oh he’s right outside. He wasn’t sure if you wanted him to come in.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Having a kid with the guy and he still respects my boundaries.”

“Which is a good thing,” Bobby reminds him, patting Dean’s shoulder comfortingly, “you’re lucky to have that kid. Hell, we all are. Just got his cast off and he’s already back at work, I-”

“Robert,” Ellen manages to suppress her grin, “Can we talk about something that isn’t the garage for five seconds?”

“Like how great your ass looks in those jeans?”

“Do you guys want me to start vomiting again?” Dean demands, cringing in disgust.

His parents laugh, and Ellen says, “I’ll get Cas. We probably have to go anyway, she said we have to leave after visiting hours, because we’re not one of the baby’s parents.” she rolls her eyes, “We’ll bring you back some stuff in a few?”

Dean sighs grumpily, “Can’t have solid food.”

“Slushies and ice cream it is.” Bobby amends.

Dean beams at them, “Thank you both for existing.”

Ellen kisses his forehead and Bobby does the same, promising to return promptly with treats and then leave again. They open the door and Dean sees Cas standing against the nurses’ station counter, fiddling with his hands like he always does when he’s nervous. His head jerks up when the door opens, and he peeks around Ellen and Bobby to try to see inside. They move over, permitting his entrance, and he practically runs in.

“Dean!” he breathes as the door closes behind him. Then, his eye catches on the fetal monitor and the catheter attached to Dean’s leg -because he can’t fucking move with this thing around his belly, although he plans to avoid peeing until they take off the monitor- and his face is crestfallen.

“Are you two…?”

“We’re fine.” Dean promises, “wasn’t a pulmonary embalmer.”

Cas laughs a little, “pulmonary _embolism_.”

“Yeah yeah words. Turns out I tore the lining of my throat during that morning sickness phase, and coughing so hard at the store re-tore it. Just a little throat blood I guess, no lung blood clots.”

Relief surges through Cas’ body visibly, “So it was no big deal?”

Dean grins, “No big deal.”

Cas glances down at the machinery hooked up to his child, “Then what’s with the…”

“I guess it’s regulation. Dear god don’t look at the pee tube Cas, I swear I will slap you.”

“Sorry,” he smiles apologetically and takes Dean’s hand, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you when they were finding out what was wrong. You must’ve been scared.”

Dean sighs, thinking about what Cas had said in the car. _“This is serious Dean, I don’t have time to be a child.”_

“You were...real mature about this Cas. Like, scary grown-up.”

Cas bites his lip, “I thought something was really wrong. I was afraid if I freaked out on the outside like I was on the inside I’d only upset you more.”

Dean chuckles nervously, “Yeah, that makes sense. It’s just...it made me realize I’m gonna have to grow up pretty soon too. I mean, eight months ago I played video games and went to parties. Now I go to ultrasound appointments and drink decaffeinated tea. I guess...I guess I’m growing up a little earlier than I want.”

Cas nods in understanding, “I get it, I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s like, we’re still kids but we’re _having_ a kid. Sometimes it scares me too.”

Dean breathes out in relief, “Thank god. I was beginning to think nothing affects you, _Man Of Steel_ over here.”

Cas laughs, “Far from it Dean.”

Dean smiles up at him, squeezing his hand, “I’m really glad you’re here Cas. Not all 17 year old guys would be in this for the long haul. Especially given the circumstances.”

He leans down and kisses Dean’s belly, lips curving into a smile as Mason kicks him in the nose, “Can’t run away from love, Dean.”

Awed, Dean replies, “No. I guess not.”

-

Cas is permitted to stay since he’s the biological father of the baby, which kind of justifies the smug expression on his face, but not really. The maternity nurses fawn over Mason’s ultrasound photos and bring Dean flowers, which has Cas looking pretty jealous, but he steps back and lets them fuss. They seem to adore Dean and the unborn Mason, and there’s an entire flock of them that spend at least an hour making sure Dean is pleased. Dean lavishes in the attention, especially since they take extra care and pay close attention to Mason’s health. Hey, milk it if you got it.

When they _finally_ leave, much to Cas’ enjoyment, Dean says, “jealousy is an ugly color Cas.”

Cas snorts, “I was not jealous.”

Dean arches an eyebrow, “Oh?”

Cas blushes and climbs up to sit criss-cross on the edge of the bed, “It’s not my fault if I want you two all to myself.”

“Easy tiger.”

Cas smiles, cheeks dimpling sweetly, “For the record, I’m glad that I’m here too, Dean.”

“How are you the same guy who turned me away all those months ago?” Dean asks softly, intertwining their fingers, “You’re more than I could ever ask for.”

Cas smiles again, “Ditto.” then, he climbs off the bed and crosses the room to the overnight bag Ellen and Bobby had dropped off with Dean’s ice cream, “I asked your parents to bring something...I hope they found it, ah, here!” Cas whirls around proudly, holding up a paperback cover of George Orwell’s _“Animal Farm_.”

“Uh, what’s that for?”

“I read online that reading to the baby before he’s born can make him smarter. Thought you might want to try it, since you asked me to teach him French anyway.”

Dean nods eagerly and pats the foot of the bed again, “Sure. C’mon.”

Cas crosses back over and hauls himself up on the bed, opening the book and thumbing through to his dog-eared page.

“Aren’t you supposed to use a bookmark?” Dean asks doubtfully. He doesn’t read for fun, but he’s heard that book snobs like Cas are sort of averse to dog-earing the pages.

Cas rolls his eyes, “That’s crap, I always lose them. Besides, there’s nothing harmful about dog-earing the pages. That’s how you show a book you love it.”

“There are some things about you too weird for Mason to inherit, I hope.”

Cas chuckles, and then begins reading, “ _Is it not crystal clear comrades, that all the evils of this life of ours spring from from the tyranny of human beings? Only get rid of Man, and the produce of our labor would be our own.”_

“Jeesh,” Dean mutters, yawning, “and you thought _Pulp Fiction_ was disturbing?”

Cas grins, and continues. Dean’s not sure where Cas stops reading, because he falls asleep around the line, “ _Death to Humanity!_ ” but he’s fairly certain that as he drifts off to sleep, he feels a comforting hand rubbing along his belly, and a soft voice that sounds very much like Cas, whisper, “g’night little man. Daddy loves you.”

But maybe he imagines it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catheter= a small tube that hooks up to the urethra in order to help a patient pee.   
> When you're hooked up to a fetal monitor you can't move, so these are usually inserted. 
> 
> PS I'm no doctor so be careful with taking my fiction seriously! 
> 
> PS again sorry for putting my bbys in the hospital for so much maybe they just have bad luck


	9. Two is Better Than One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh get excited!
> 
> plese enjoy and let me know your thoughts! Next chapter up soon!
> 
> (Good luck Dean you poor bby)
> 
> (btw I'm gonna butcher human anatomy to explain why a guy is having a baby so bear with me)

“The amniotic sac will burst, thus creating either a trickle or a gush of liquid flow-”

“Oh sick!” Jo throws a pillow at Cas’ face, prompting him to stop reading the labor and delivery informative brochure Dr. Bradbury had given Dean at his 36 week check up today.

“Hey I need to know what’s gonna go down,” Dean tells his younger sister, although he’s equally disgusted, “let him finish.”

“So I guess that’s your water breaking. Could be early in labor or later, usually happens around 6 or 7 centimeters dilated. Or, it might not happen fast enough and a medical professional will pop the sac with an amnio-hook. Okay uh...gross.”

Dean scrubs a hand across his face, “Keep going.”

“Right. So when you hit 8 centimeters dilated it’s called the transition stage, which is the most intense part of labor. It’s the transition from contractions to wanting to push the baby out, and for men, when the birth canal begins to fully form. Since you got pregnant, the hormone Relaxin has been very potent in your body, which slowly begins to form and create the birth canal around your seventh month, but transition makes it a viable exit for the baby. You won’t really feel it developing. There might be an intense urge to push, but normally you need to wait until you’re 10 centimeters.”

“This all sounds very uncomfortable,” Sam adds in, grimacing at his brother, “you sure you can do this?”

“Not like I gotta choice,” Dean sighs, repositioning himself on the couch so the baby’s weight is eased off his bladder, “Mason’s got to get out somehow.”

Jo shrugs, “Why don’t you have a c-section or something? Sounds easier.”

“Elective c-sections aren’t recommended,” Cas puts in, “it’s a really serious procedure that takes almost a month to recover from. They’re usually only supposed to be for emergencies or deliveries that are unsafe naturally.”

“Friggen expert over here,” Jo says with a grin, “what would you do Cas? If it was you squeezing the kid out?”

“Hmm,” Cas taps his chin, eyes roaming over the brochure, “None of it sounds pleasant, to be honest. I’m really not a big fan of pain so I’d probably have to get an epidural.”

Dean shudders, “Needles are not your friends. Besides, you’re numb for like two hours afterwards. I want to be able to get up and clean myself off. If I’m gonna be all…” he wrinkles his nose, “Vulnerable and exposed, I’d like to have the dignity of recovering quickly. Natural is the only way to go.”

“So Dean, you could expect labor to last hours and sometimes days. Delivery, which is the pushing itself could take hours, or maybe minutes. It’s all individual.”

“So when should we go to the hospital?”

Cas scans the brochure, and then nods, “It says when you’re sure that the contractions are consistent and lasting. We can make sure it’s not false labor by walking around. False labor contractions will usually stop after a little exercise, as opposed to real labor which will make the contractions speed up.”

“Oh boy,” Dean says, “glad I have you to remember all this crap, Cas.”

“Cas!” Ellen says as she enters the living room, leaning over the couch, “Just ordered your graduation cap and gown. Should be here in about a week.”

Cas’ cheeks turn pink, “Thank you Ellen, you didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem sweetie.” she ruffles his hair and makes her way into the kitchen, “You guys talking about Dean giving birth?”

Jo cringes, “Unfortunately. Did you know Dean might take a dump while Mason’s coming out?”

“Jo!” Dean groans, “I’m not gonna-”

“You might,” Ellen says, snorting, “Happens to a lot of people. I didn’t eat for the entire day before Jo was born, I thought it’d be rude to poop on my OB.”

“Oh my god, mom that’s fucking hilarious.”

“Glad you two are enjoying yourselves,” Dean grumbles, crossing his arms over the swell of his tummy, “I promise not to poop in front of you Cas.”

Dean can see that Cas is clearly stifling laughter, but he maturely responds, “It doesn’t matter. I uh...I won’t be looking down there anyway. No offense, I’ve seen people giving birth and it’s not really a pretty picture.”

“How many births have you seen kid?” Ellen inquires, arching an eyebrow.

Cas looks embarrassed, “My mother delivered my little sister Anna in one of those birth centers and family was allowed. She really wanted me to be there for it for some reason, even though I was a kid, and uh...I may or may not have passed out.”

“Oh great,” Dean manages, “I’m having a baby with Mr. Squeamish.”

“I assure you I won’t faint,” Cas promises him surely, “Just...as long as I don’t see any blood or um other bodily fluids.”

Ellen laughs, “Yeah, okay Cas. Cause you’ll get none of that while a baby is being born.”

“I was hoping to just ignore it.”

She snorts, “You’ve got a lot to learn kid.”

* * *

 

Castiel’s father does not attend his high school graduation.

However, Ellen, Bobby, Jo, Sam and Dean all stand up and cheer for him when his name is called. Dean hears a group of Cas’ friends doing it as well, so he hopes that makes up for the lack of pastors here tonight. Cas insists that he doesn’t want a party -especially since his birthday is coming up soon and he knows Ellen won’t be able to resist throwing him one- so they settle for taking him out to dinner. They take a lot of pictures before they leave. Ellen takes a million of her and Cas because she’s “ _So friggen proud_!” of him for graduating with a 4.0 GPA and a full ride to KSU. Jo ruins her picture by doing a pig nose, which Cas childishly participates in, much to Ellen’s annoyance. She even gets a few embarrassing ones of Dean and Cas hugging and doing a lot of kissing. Dean plans to delete those later. They convene after the pictures in a popular Italian restaurant downtown. Cas is red-faced the entire time and he keeps saying it’s too much, but of course Bobby slaps his shoulder playfully and tells him to just enjoy it, he’s earned it.

Dean of course, is more than happy to see Cas graduate. Not only is he proud that Cas has done it, but it also means they’re one step closer to their apartment in the city. This thought is how he’s making it through everything; the apartment in the city. The daycare job, college, future. This is how Dean’s going to get through Mason’s birth and everything that comes afterwards. Hope.

So basically, everything is going well. Until of course, something happens. Because why would it go perfectly? It’s Dean’s life, after all. Castiel’s sister Anna approaches the table, looking nervous and unsure. Dean sees her first, since she walks up behind Cas. She offers Dean a shy smile, but he’s too struck to respond in any way. When he doesn’t answer and just stares at her, she clears her throat.

Cas turns around, startling, “Anna.”

“Hey Castiel.”

Quickly he scrambles to his feet, pulling off his graduation cap and dropping it next to his plate, “What are you...hi?”

She glances nervously at the table full of Dean’s family, and then back at her older brother, “May I speak with you and Dean in private?”

Dean gets to his feet, instantly interested in what she has to say, but Cas asks her, “Does dad know you’re here?”

She bows her head shamefully, “No. I-I sinned to come see you. I told him I was going to the library. I followed you here.”

Cas eyes her, “Alright. Dean, is this okay with you?”

Dean nods, “be right back guys.”

They follow Anna outside to the front of the restaurant. Dean’s never actually met Cas’ sister before, she’s a little different than he expected. Given her wildly dyed bright red hair and the way she was acting at the dance where he and Cas met, Dean had expected someone less...timid. Guess you shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover.

“I miss you,” she says immediately to Castiel.

Cas glances at Dean before responding, “I miss you too Anna. But you know why I’m not allowed back home.”

She nods, “I understand. I-I just wanted to congratulate you on graduating. And…” she scratches her neck, “I wanted to meet Dean.”

“Me?” Dean asks, surprised, “why?”

Her gaze lingers on his belly, which somewhat resembles a balloon at the moment, and she says, “Not everyone in our family shares the same ideas as my father. You’re pregnant with my niece or nephew, that’s someone worth meeting.”

Face flushed, Dean replies, “Oh. Uh, hi. I’m Dean.” he sticks his arm out robotically, and they shake.

“Anna.”

“And uh, this is Mason.” he pats his belly with a slight smile, “Nephew.”

Anna’s face is alight with a smile, “Mason. That is a beautiful name Dean.”

“Uh, your brother came up with it.”

“Nevertheless, I love it.”

“Jee, you and your dad really aren’t so alike.”

“Not at all really. I think that baby Mason is a blessing.”

Apparently, Mason appreciates the praise. Dean straightens a little as his son begins rolling around and proceeding with his nightly acrobatics. He smiles a little, placing his hand tenderly against his side, feeling the little bumps of Mason’s feet against his palm.

“Is he kicking?” Cas asks, Anna momentarily forgotten. Dean nods and pulls Cas’ hand welcomingly against his belly. He laughs, “he’s trying to escape via kicking and punching.”

Dean looks up a little and notices Anna’s longing stare. He’s usually uncomfortable with strangers touching his bump -he’d almost swung at this soccer mom at Walmart- but she looks so sweet, so innocent, he can’t help but want to include her.

“Want to feel?” he asks.

Unlike the hesitant, unsure Jo, Anna is eager to participate. She smiles and nods, moving forward and delicately pressing her hand above his belly button. A grin splits across her face as Mason pounds against her hand.

“He likes you,” Dean tells her, smiling.

Anna laughs breathlessly, “How beautiful.” she looks up at Dean’s face, and then back to his stomach, “a miracle.”

Dean blushes, “Anna you’re a sweetheart.”

She sighs earnestly, “I am sorry that I can’t be a part of this baby’s life.”

Cas slides his arm around Dean’s waist and tugs him against his side, “Me too Anna.”

Dean keeps quiet, because he doesn’t know what to say. She’s kind of right, she can’t be in Mason’s life because of her father. Dean doubts the pastor would kick out his fourteen year old, as opposed to his almost 18-year old, and there’s no way he’ll let her be around the baby. He thinks Mason is...a sin. Dean grimaces. Mason is the love of his life. Not even born yet and Dean already loves the hell out of him. A little bit of Cas and a little bit of Dean all rolled into one; a completely new person who doesn’t even exist yet. The thought fascinates him.

Mason fascinates him, and he’s never loved anyone more.

“Well, I should go.” Anna says somewhat sadly, “It was lovely to meet you and your son Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah you too Anna. Hope I get to see you again.”

Her expression tells him that his hope is not realistic.

-

Castiel’s birthday celebration comes around during Dean’s 39th week of pregnancy.

His birthday is actually tomorrow, but he works, so the Singer-Winchester- Novaks are celebrating today. He’d be really happy about Cas turning eighteen and all, and Ellen’s baked him a nice vegetarian dinner feast with his favorite kind of cake -really Cas, _carrot cake_?- but he’s uncomfortable. He woke up early this morning with an uncomfortable sensation in his lower back, that he’s been ignoring as his usual back pain. Throughout the day though, it’s begun to get worse. And he’s had a little cramping in his stomach. He’s pretty sure it’s nothing. At around 5 PM he decides to try walking around, because Cas said sometimes you can detect false labor by doing moderate exercise and Dean does not want to freak everyone out by saying he’s having contractions before he really is.

He’s just finished walking a complete circuit around the house, when Ellen calls him down, “Hey Dean? Food’s ready!”

He bites his lip, hesitating at his bedroom door. The walking hadn’t much helped the cramping. He takes a deep breath and smooths his blue jean button up over his swollen tummy, hoping to stifle some of the uncomfortable sensations growing there. It’s probably nothing. Everyone’s waiting for him. He opens the door and slowly makes his way down the stairs, using the trusty railing to steady himself. Another cramp stops him halfway down, and he takes a slow breath. It’s not that bad, probably just Mason getting comfortable for the evening.

It’s probably nothing.

He sits beside Cas at the table, shooting him a nervous smile that he hopes passes as nonchalant, “Happy almost birthday Cas.”

Cas smiles back, “Thank you Dean.”

“Okay you two quit flirting,” Jo rolls her eyes, “Cas, Sam and I got you a gift.”

Dean fidgets.

“You guys shouldn’t have.” Cas insists modestly. 

_It’s probably nothing._

“Holy crap, this watch is beautiful. Thank you so much, Jo, Sam. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Hey you’re the coolest brother-in-law we could ask for,” Sam grins, “you deserve a nice Rolex.”

Cas slips the watch on his wrist, chuckling, “It’s amazing, thank you so much.”

God what the hell is with these _fucking cramps_?

“Dean, babe you okay?” Ellen inquires, arching an eyebrow.

Dean realizes he’s been holding his breath, and lets it out in a whoosh, “Yep.”

It’s probably nothing.

“Alright. Cas, time for mine and Bobby’s gift.”

“Oh gosh, you two had already done so much for me-”

“Cas hush,” Bobby rolls his eyes, “It’s outside, c’mon.”

Reluctantly, Dean pushes himself to his feet and follows his family outside. He pales when he sees what’s in the driveway. “Oh..my..god…” Cas breathes out in disbelief. Standing proudly in the driveway, is a 1969 Buick Gran Sport convertible, fully restored, cherry red and absolutely beautiful. Dean’s jaw drops, and he momentarily forgets about his contra-his cramps.

“Holy shit.” Jo mutters, “this is way cooler than the electric one.”

Cas presses his hand to his mouth, “I-I can’t accept this.”

“Oh shush, Mason’s gotta get his car seat somewhere and that Impala is long but small.” Ellen waves her hand.

“Mr. and Mrs. Singer the _cost_ -”

“Ain’t as bad as you think boy. Got this hunka’junk at the garage as a donation. Fixed her up real nice for you. She’s all yours Cas.” Bobby smiles and tosses the startled boy the keys.

“How can I ever begin to express gratitude for this?” Cas demands, running a fingertip delicately along the bright red paint, “oh my god it’s beautiful. Thank you so-”

“Don’t worry about thanks, let’s get inside and eat.” Ellen suggests, “Dean looks ready to attack from hunger.”

There’s a collective laugh and Dean wants to scream at his mother that he isn’t hungry, he’s in _pain._ But he refrains, and once again follows his family. Once again seated at the dinner table, the eating resumes and talking and laughter commences. Dean bites his lip, breathing through his teeth as what has now become a contraction passes over his body again. It’s not horrible yet, just a pretty painful pinching sensation in his belly. Almost like a belt that’s too tight.

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asks him quietly, “you’ve hardly touched your food.” he smiles, “I promise, vegetarian lasagna doesn’t bite.”

Dean wants to laugh at the joke, but he’s currently in the middle of a fucking contraction while Cas is talking about _lasagna_. Oh god, this is definitely not “nothing.”

“Dean?” Cas’ tone grows a little more serious as he sees the strained expression on Dean’s face, “Hey whoa Dean? Are you _breathing_?”

Once again, Dean lets his breath out and sucks in some air, squeezing his eyes shut as his face burns with his family’s concerned gazes.

“Dean?” Ellen’s voice now, “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t freak out,” he murmurs, “I’m having contractions.”

He opens his eyes and Castiel’s cerulean ones are wide, “ _What?! For how long_?!”

He grimaces, “Since noon maybe?”

“ _Noon!_ Why didn’t you say anything?” Ellen demands, dropping her fork.

Dean’s hands clench, more out of frustration than discomfort, “because I’m freaking out!” he snaps, not really meaning to be rude but unable to help the harsh tone of his words as they’re rushed out.

“Should we get you to the hospital?” Bobby asks him, focusing more on a logical approach than an emotional one.

Dean shakes his head, trying to remain calm, “N-no. They aren’t, they aren’t that severe yet.”

Cas stares at him, and for once he’s the one asking, “So what do we do?”

Dean bites his lip and replies helplessly, “I guess we wait.”


	10. When the Levee Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok just a warning I go into detail a little bit, with some medical stuff and my complete bullshit defying anatomy. If you don't wanna read the detailed stuff it's pretty easy to find where Mason is actually born.
> 
> Also, I have a question so after you read this chapter read the other note :)
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts/ideas! Thanks! <3

“Do you want to sit down?”

“No Cas.”

Dean takes a deep, slow breath. He’s currently pressing his forehead against the wall in the living room, hands clenched into fists as they hold him up. He’s been in labor for around five hours now, and the clock is nearing 10:00 PM. So far, it fucking sucks. He’s grateful that he has Cas and Ellen and Sam there with him, -Bobby and Jo dutifully exited the room to busy themselves with something else- but that doesn’t help the pain. What had been cramps before are starting to become agony.

He can feel his body gearing up for another contraction, so he bites down on his lip and tries to breathe as the pain courses through his body. The contractions are about 15 minutes apart now, but that doesn’t make it any easier when they come. It feels like a rusty knife is being jammed into his side and then twisted crudely.

Cas is at his side now, hand on his lower back, “Alright, okay breathe.”

Dean wants to growl that _obviously he’s going to fucking breathe_ , but Cas is trying to be supportive, so he just nods and squeezes his eyes shut. He tries to remember those stupid breathing exercise videos Ellen showed him. He regrets not taking them seriously now, because he figures some _hee-hee-hoos_ would make a stark difference in his pain tolerance.

“Okay, okay.” Cas murmurs, rubbing Dean’s back slowly as the contraction panders out, “you good?”

Dean nods again, gathering up some air and trying to breathe evenly, “okay, now I want to sit.”

Cas help him over to the couch and they both sit. Dean tucks his legs up tight around his belly, breathing through his nose and blinking the wetness out of his eyes. Sam affectionately pats his leg and gives him a sympathetic smile.

“Are you okay Dean?” he asks worriedly.

Dean nods, “S’all normal Sammy.”

“Sure is,” Ellen assures him, “Dean do you want anything? You should probably eat now, you won’t be able to when we get to the hospital.”

Dean hesitates, then nods, “Something small?”

Ellen makes him a cup of tea and one of their blueberry muffins before returning to the couch. Dean thanks her and sips the tea, which somewhat helps calm his erratic nerves. He nibbles at the muffin, but he doesn’t have much of an appetite. He feels another contraction nearing, so he quickly sets the muffin and tea down on the coffee table and leans forward, hands on his knees. Cas glances at his new watch and frowns, “It’s only been ten minutes since the last.”

Dean groans, grabbing Cas’ wrist in a vise-tight grip, “they’re getting worse.” he manages, gasping and clenching his teeth to get him through it.

“We should probably head to the hospital,” Ellen decides, “I’m sure your water will break soon Dean. Sam, hon can you get Dean’s overnight bag?”

Sam nods and gives Dean’s hair a ruffle before heading out to get the bag and tell Jo and Bobby that it’s time. Ellen gets up and announces that she’s going to help Sam load up the car, leaving Cas and Dean alone.

“Does it hurt really badly?” Cas asks in a guilty voice.

Dean breathes loudly as the contraction begins to taper off. He takes a few slow inhales and releases Cas’ wrist, “It’s normal.” he says.

“I’m scared,” Cas admits, “I don’t like seeing you in so much pain.”

“I am too,” Dean tells him, leaning back against the sofa with a heave, “everyone goes through it Cas, don’t worry.”

“You’re being awfully calm about all this.”

Dean smiles weakly, “This is serious, I don’t have time to be a child.”

-

Okay seriously, Dean gets that labor sometimes takes forever, but ten hours is way too long. His water broke around an hour ago, and he’s been 7 centimeters dilated with contractions five minutes apart and lasting sixty seconds. It’s 3 AM and Cas is still by Dean’s side, gripping his hand and encouraging him throughout each contraction. He hasn’t yet caved and asked for an epidural, and he’s probably already too dilated for that anyway, but he wants to die. No sixteen year old should feel this pain, seriously, it’s _not natural._

“Cas,” he whimpers as another contraction makes it’s way over him, “it hurts.”

“I know baby,” Cas mumbles softly, leaning over to press a warm kiss against Dean’s sweat-slicked forehead, “It’ll be over soon.”

He clamps down on Cas’ hand hard, groaning through his teeth at the contraction. He briefly observes one of the nurses telling him he’s about to enter transition stage, which Cas mentioned being the most intense part of labor, but he’s in too much pain to give a shit about her words. It registers that Cas had been a little wrong. Sure it’s the most intense so far, but it’s also the most _agonizing_. He’s refrained from screaming so far, but now he can’t help it. The scream rips from his throat, making Cas cringe, although he continues to hold Dean’s hand and mutter stupid pointless shit. The contraction lasts an ungodly 90 seconds before Dean can breathe again. He only has about two more minutes before the next, so he tries to savor it.

“You should be ready to push soon,” one of the nurses tells him with a smile, “Dr. Bradbury is on her way.”

Ellen, who’s been sitting silently at Dean’s other side slowly massaging her fingers through his damp hair asks, “Am I allowed to stay with him?”

“Sorry, in case of emergency we only have one person stay. Usually it’s a toss up between the father and the grandparent, so you guys will have to decide that pretty soon.”

Dean hates this fucking nurse because she won’t let both people he loves stay. He wants to fucking slap her.

Unfortunately, his two minutes are up. He grabs Cas’ hand again and screams again as the ridiculous, unbearable pain tears through his abdomen once more. Cas leans over and squeezes his hand, pressing more stupid kisses to his face and muttering words that Dean hates because they actually help a little.

“I think Cas should stay,” Ellen murmurs softly, “He should be here to for the birth of his baby. And he seems to be a good comfort to you.”

Dean falls back against the pillows, swallowing gulps of air, “You sure?” he pants.

She nods, rising to her feet and kissing his forehead, “See you on the other side hon, you’re doing great.” she kisses Cas on the way out too, leaving them alone with two nurses.

“Thank you,” Dean manages weakly, “for being here.”

“We’ll do this together,” Cas promises, squeezing Dean’s hand again, “Okay? Together?”

Dean nods as yet another contraction decides to intrude on their moment. Cas helps him through it, gripping his hand and kissing him and continuing to tell him that he’s amazing and that Mason will be here soon and they’ll have their apartment in the city. Dr. Bradbury enters a few contractions later, “How are you Dean?”

“Fucking _fantastic_!” He gasps as a contraction finishes off.

She chuckles, plopping down on a stool and placing his ankles in the stirrups of the bed. She gives him a quick exam and grins, “Birth canal is fully developed, you’re just about 10 centimeters dilated. I’d say either the next contraction or the one after is when you should begin pushing.”

Dean grunts in response, and Cas asks her, “Does everything look normal?”

She nods, “Everything looks great. How’re you holding up Dean?”

“No one said it was gonna hurt this bad,” he grumbles angrily, crying out as another contraction overwhelms him.

“Alright Dean, next contraction just push as hard as you can, alright? Your body knows what to do.” Bradbury promises him.

Dean nods and looks at Cas, “Together?”

“Yes, yes together. I’m right here.” he kisses Dean’s knuckle and moves to stand closer beside him, “Together.”

“Oh- another one is coming.”

“Nurse would you help pull his leg back a little? Oh, okay! Push! Dean push!”

Dean bears down, feeling the strain all the way up to his neck. He tries to focus on Cas’ hand in his and the thought of the apartment in the city, rather than the agony tearing through his body. Castiel’s hands are cold as he wipes sweat from Dean’s face and replaces the moisture with kisses and soft whispers. Dean finishes out the push and falls back against the pillows again, panting and groaning.

“Good job!” Bradbury says to him, “great push Dean.”

There’s not much of a break before he has to push again. This time it’s a little harder, he’s fucking exhausted already and lassitude settles on his shoulders as he heaves his body forward in an attempt to get a better push in.

“Good good!” Bradbury encourages, “nice Dean!”

“I can’t do it!” Dean gasps, his push halting as he collapses back into the bed and whimpers, “I can’t- I can’t-”

“Dean look at me,” Cas orders him, and Dean does so, face slick with tears and sweat, “Yes you can. Look at my eyes, okay? You like my eyes don’t you?”

Dean nods weakly, “They’re like that friggen blue cotton candy at the fair.”

Cas smiles, laughing nervously, “Okay. Look at them, picture the cotton candy. Focus on that, alright? After Mason is born I will buy you as much damn cotton candy as you want. Okay? Huh? Together?”

Cas’ sentence is half gibberish but for some reason it makes Dean feel a little better. He nods stupidly and tightens his grip on Cas’ hand as another contraction begins.

“Okay get ready to push,” Bradbury says from between his legs, “Get a good one in and he might start crowning!”

Dean sucks in a deep breath and cries out as he musters an intense push. He stares up into Cas’ eyes and focuses his attention on the cotton candy color. They’re so beautiful and they’re moist with tears and it helps distract him. Dean laughs a little as he catches his breath and waits for the next contraction.

“He’s crowning!” Bradbury mutters in disbelief, “Dean, nice!”

“Dean you’re doing wonderfully,” Cas whispers, rubbing his hand and smiling tenderly, “just a little longer.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean mumbles as he prepares for the next contraction.

“Yeah babe?”

“I still have your cardigan, the one you gave to me when it was raining.”

Cas chuckles, shaking his head, “Dean after this, you can keep that damn thing as long as you want.”

His laugh is broken off by another contraction. He hisses and bears down hard, crying out in pain as he struggles to keep up with his body. All he wants to do is sleep and end the pain, but right now his son is half inside him and half in the world, so that will have to wait.

“Dean keep going!” Bradbury urges, “His head is coming! This is the worst part, the rest is a piece of cake!”

“C’mon Dean,” Cas whispers, kissing him again, “c’mon baby push.”

Dr. Bradbury curses quietly and says, “Nurse Rosen, here! Gotta do an episiotomy.”

“What’s that?” Cas demands, “what? What’s wrong? Is the baby okay? Is Dean okay?”

“Nothing nothing, just gotta give Dean a little cut down there.”

“You’re going to _what_?”

“It’s a bit of a tight squeeze,” she explains as the nurse hands her surgical scissors, “gotta make a little room.”

"Won't that hurt him?”

"He's already in pain dear."

Cas turns to Dean and kisses his face again, “okay. You're fine, huh?"

Dean hardly even notices it with all the pain he’s already in. He can hear the snip followed by a quick burst of sharp pain, but another contraction comes on, which is much worse than the sting of the cut.

“Okay much better. Dean give me another big push!”

Dean shouts and pushes a little harder, much to Bradbury’s joy, “Almost out! A few more pushes!” Somehow he manages to drag out one long, agonizing push. He can barely hear his own heartbeat over his screams, but he’s rewarded almost instantly with a slight relief. 

“Head’s out!” Bradbury shouts, “next contraction should take care of the shoulders. Cas, you wanna see this?”

Cas grimaces and inches a little closer to Dean’s face, “I’ll stay on this end of things, thank you though.”

Soon enough, Dean’s pushing again. He feels the shoulders jabbing sideways, but with a little more elbow grease they effortlessly slide out. And the rest of the baby follows suit. Dean leans back against the pillows, gasping for air and unable to believe the immense relief and emptiness of delivering Mason. Then, a raspy wailing echoes through the room. He’s sitting up again, peering over his tummy to get a better look. He can’t see anything, so he settles on falling back against the pillows again.

“Cas, care to cut the cord?”

Cas doesn’t seem to mind this offer. He squeezes Dean’s hand and approaches Dr. Bradbury. Dutifully avoiding Dean’s disaster zone of junk -thank god- he cuts where Bradbury has tied off the cord.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, “look at all his _hair_.”

Bradbury laughs as she clears Mason’s airways for his screams to continue bouncing around, “He must get that from you.”

Then, Dean’s sitting up again, because Mason is being placed across his belly. Clumsily, Dean cradles the unfamiliar baby against his chest, staring down in disbelief. Mason is here. His son. He’s pale with a bright pink to his cheeks. There’s still a thin coating of bodily fluids and vernix masking his cute little face, and Dean can’t see his eyes yet, but his hair is Dean’s sandy brown, and it’s shaggy and thick. The baby wriggles around grumpily, but settles quickly nestled against his father’s body, his squeals melting into petulant little hiccups.

“Cas,” Dean manages, “look what we made.”

Cas grins and lets out a little laugh, “Welcome to the world little guy.”

Dean had been sure he wouldn’t cry, but he was wrong. His face is already soaked with sweat and tears from the pain, but now he’s crying for a totally different reason. His baby is here. His little Mason. His son. The baby who’d been without a face, living inside him for nine months. The baby he’s been caring for and carting around in his belly, is now here in the world.

“Dean you’re amazing,” Cas whispers in a broken, teary voice, “I’m so proud of you. I love you.”

Dean cuddles Mason a little closer and sniffles, “We love you too Cas.”

-

After delivering the placenta without a hitch and being allowed to shower, Dean is sitting up in a different room than the one he’d delivered in. He’s surprised at how good he feels; the birth hardly even affected him after he actually got Mason out. He feels good as new. Showering hadn’t been an ordeal, and his legs are as steady as ever. Granted there are some stitches in the birth canal -that will vanish within 4-6 weeks- but he doesn’t feel as sore as he expected.

Not to mention, Mason’s really fucking cute when he’s not covered in the goo from inside Dean’s body. He got the big blue cotton candy eyes, much to Dean’s pleasure. There’s a small, very very light spray of freckles across the bridge of his miniature nose, and his lips are plump and pink. His hands are chubby as hell and so are his legs and Dean wishes there was a way he could cuddle his son tighter. Holy fuck is he glad he decided to endure the months of ridicule and hardship. His baby boy is more than worth it. And Cas is sitting beside him, watching as Dean guides Mason to his chest to feed him.

At first it was a little awkward, because it’s not like Dean’s chest swelled up like a chick’s, other than a little tenderness he’d never even noticed that his body was changing this much. But, much to his surprise, Mason has no trouble eating, and it soons becomes more of a bonding experience than mealtime. Dean feels closer with Mason than ever, and the way his kid looks up at him with that big blue gaze, it’s almost hard to let go. Ellen, Sam, Jo and Bobby come to visit a few hours after he’s born. Ellen holds him first and of course, there are water works that could drown an entire high school. She hugs Cas, she hugs Dean, she hugs Mason, she even forces a hug on a flustered Dr. Bradbury.

Bobby is surprisingly gentle with the baby, his calloused hands carefully cradling Mason’s small body. He shakes his head and laughs, “he’s a big boy.”

“Just like his daddy,” Dean smiles down at Mason, “his rolls are so fucking cute.”

“That’s the only reason babies are cute,” Jo snorts, “The baby fat.”

Sam is next to hold the baby, and he does so surprisingly expertly. Although Dean can see Cas stiffen and look ready to dive forward and grab Mason should anything go wrong, it all goes off perfectly. Jo even gets in a few minutes holding him, before he begins whimpering in complaint and Dean takes him back for some well-deserved cuddling.

“You did great honey.” Ellen tells Dean, smiling down at her grandson, “he’s beautiful.”

-

Later, as Dean and Cas are left with some alone time, Mason sleeping soundly against Dean’s chest, he murmurs softly, “I’m sorry Mason hijacked your birthday Cas.”

“Are you kidding?” Cas demands, grinning down at his son, “best birthday ever.”

Dean laughs quietly, “Thanks for helping me through this.”

“Thanks for suffering in order to give us a baby.”

Dean looks down at Mason’s peaceful sleeping face, “You know, we still haven’t picked a middle name.”

Cas bites his lip, “I haven’t got any preferences.”

“Well, if it’s okay, I think Bobby deserves this honor. Mason Robert Winchester. Biology be damned, you know? _He’s_ my dad.”

Cas smiles, “I like it. He’s going to be so happy.”

“Do you want to hold Mason?”

Cas nods eagerly, and Dean passes the baby over to him. Mason puffs out grumpily, but continues his slumber unperturbed, “We sure made a cute as hell kid.”

“I’m really glad we had crazy hot sex.”

Cas laughs loudly, before quieting down and hushing Mason softly. He grins up at Dean, “You know what? Me too. Let’s do it again sometime.”

“This time, you can wear a condom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so if I decided to make this into a little series like I could upload little one-shots or epilogues about Cas/Dean/Mason's life would anyone like to read that? I'd love to do it! :) Let me know.


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